


A World To Roam Through, And A Home With Thee

by thegrimshapeofyoursmile



Series: Lamen ABO Verse [1]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alpha!Auguste, Alternate Universe - Auguste Lives, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Nicaise lives as well, Omega!Nicaise, Omega!laurent, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Slow Build, a/b/o dynamics, alpha!damen, disabled Auguste
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-06-03 06:56:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 39,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6601228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrimshapeofyoursmile/pseuds/thegrimshapeofyoursmile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re Laurent Aurifère, right? I know your brother –“<br/>“Well, of course you do,” Laurent snapped, unable to hold back his anger, his disgust, and maybe he reeked with it or it was written so clearly on his face that Damianos could not help but take notice because he looked at him with wide eyes, a ridiculous impression for a big oaf of an Alpha like him. “And if you know who I am, I cannot help but wonder at the audacity you’re showing by sitting next to me, by even looking into my general direction. Get lost – and quickly, or I promise that you are going to regret it.”<br/>///<br/>A/B/O verse combined with college AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Laurent

**Author's Note:**

> So I had this little idea for a while now, but it took me a long while to figure out how to do this. Hopefully I succeeded!
> 
> The title is taken from Lord Byron's "Epistle to Augusta".
> 
> Have fun!

Laurent was not particularly fond of his co-students, or other people in general, which was just as well. Considering the tight schedule he ran, only a few people were loyal enough to remain friends with him, and those he valued higher than he would ever let them know. So he was used to having his space in his courses, most people too intimidated to try hitting on him by now, which meant that usually he sat alone in his corner in the first row. 

It was a windy Monday morning and Laurent, being twenty minutes too early for his course on history of law as usual, glanced out of the window while he arranged his notebook, text book, pen and colored pencils in neat, precise order on the table. He had no particular feeling about this morning or the day that would follow it; it seemed like any other day he had already spent at university. Nothing warned or prepared him for what was to come and he felt not happy, but content and being content was all he hoped to be these days.  
All contentment, however, was lost when the door swung open and gave way to a late student, big enough to fill almost all space in the doorframe.

It was not the fact that this new student reeked of Alpha, looked like the part as well with his broad shoulders, square jaw and dark curls framing a rather handsome face that caused Laurent to sit up straighter, stomach heavy with disgust. He was used to Alphas by now, the good and the bad ones, knew how to handle them and did not care much for their tantrums. Rather than this student being an Alpha it was the fact who he was as a person that caused Laurent to recoil with disgust, anger and fury unfurling in his veins like a wildfire he could barely contain. 

_Damianos_ , his mind whispered, his mind that had stared at pictures of Damianos Heliopoulos for hours and hours in the past, days and nights in which he had thought Auguste lost, days and nights in which Auguste had suffered so much pain because of him, because of this face and those hands, and Laurent, as rational as he usually was, could not bring himself to forgive him for what he had caused, no matter how often Auguste had argued for him. As much as he loved and adored his brother, this was something he had never been able to understand and he was not sure he ever would; it was a sign of grace and goodness that he himself simply did not possess. 

Trying not to tremble with mad fury, Laurent took a deep breath and looked down at his notes. Of course he had heard of Damianos Heliopoulos entering the same university as he had after coming back from the army, but as far as he knew he studied economy, which was exactly what Auguste had studied and, in some extend, still studied and which furthermore was only appropriate for the heir of such a big company as Akielos Enterprise. So he had never expected their ways to actually cross, even though Damianos suddenly seemed to be everywhere: People talked about him in awed voices, speaking of his successes at the university’s football games, speaking of his generosity, his friendliness, his good looks, while Laurent wanted nothing more than forget that the man even existed, clenching his jaw whenever he heard a word about him. 

And now he was here, in this sacred part of Laurent’s life he valued highly, turning his life upside down once again by messing up Laurent’s even more sacred daily routine and having the audacity to sit down next to him. For a wild moment, Laurent imagined stabbing one of his big hands with one of his pencils; then he let out a breath and decided to simply ignore the man as much as he could. 

He should have known that Damianos was not someone who accepted being ignored.

“I hope this place isn’t reserved for someone else?” he asked and Laurent slowly exhaled again, not lifting his head for a second. On one hand, he knew how to handle interest in his person, how to suffocate it before it could rightly begin; on the other hand, he was too emotionally compromised to be rational about the entire thing. 

“Would it keep you from sprouting nonsense in my direction? Then I’d say yes,” he answered instead, voice as coolly as possible while trying to maintain a body language that made his disinterest in this entire conversation overly clear. 

Unfortunately, Damianos Heliopoulos was not someone who let go of a matter that easily. Instead of being taken aback by Laurent’s rude behavior, he merely smiled gently and scooted back a little, granting him more space. “You’re Laurent Aurifére, right? I know your brother –“

“Well, of course you do,” Laurent snapped, unable to hold back his anger, his disgust, and maybe he reeked with it or it was written so clearly on his face that Damianos could not help but take notice because he looked at him with wide eyes, a ridiculous impression for a big oaf of an Alpha like him. “And if you know who I am, I cannot help but wonder at the audacity you’re showing by sitting next to me, by even looking into my general direction. Get lost – and quickly, or I promise that you are going to regret it.”

He had deliberately not lowered his voice and people behind them spoke in hushed whispers while he stared at Damianos with burning eyes, silently daring him to puff his chest and yell at him. Instead, Damianos closed his eyes for a moment, shoulders slumping forward, before he opened his eyes again and calmly, very calmly answered, “I apologize. I wanted to…since I know – knew your brother, I just wanted to…”

“What? Try harrassing his Omega brother after ruining his life, just to complete the job?” 

“That was _not_ -“

They were interrupted by the professor finally entering the classroom and Laurent took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Even though Daminos did not make an effort to speak with him again, he was still there and his mere existence gnawed at the roots of Laurent’s very essence, making it almost impossible to follow the professor’s words. All of his efforts were to no avail; by the end of the lesson, he was angry and mentally exhausted, most of today’s lesson lost to him, which angered him even further. Afterwards, he began packing his things as fast and meticulously as he could before slinging his bag around his shoulder and brushing past the bulk of Damianos’ body without a single word.

“See you!” Damianos called after him, but he did not acknowledge that with an answer, merely concentrating on getting out. When he left the building, the sun was still high in the sky and he had to put on his sunglasses and a hat to shield himself from the sun. A glance at his watch told him that it was time to get Nicaise from school and so he made his way to the parking lot, still trying to forget that he ever had to put up with Damianos Heliopoulos in person. It was futile; not even the pieces of jazz music he turned on during the drive were able to clear his mind from lingering ghosts. It was notable enough that Nicaise, fourteen and a self-centered pain in the ass as he was, noticed right away.

“Got something worse than an A on a paper?” he asked, brushing his bronze-colored curls from his angelic face before he got in the black BMW, slopping down on the co-driver’s seat with all the grace of a youth being very much aware of his own beauty. “Ugh, you’re playing that shit again. Your music is as taste- and colorless as you yourself.” 

“It’s better than the electronic trash you call music,” Laurent calmly replied and watched Nicaise’s facial expression like a hawk. Nicaise just laughed, an ugly, distorted sound made to enrage, and leaned sideways to fiddle with Laurent’s radio, just like he always did. Laurent wordlessly let him, just like he always did, while navigating the car away from the school. “Couldn’t find shorter hot pants today? They cover part of your upper thigh, that’s almost modest for a slut like you.”

“That’s something a stuck-up bitch like you will never understand,” Nicaise answered with another ugly laughter and looked out of the window with an entirely bored expression. Laurent watched him for a moment from the corner of his eye before he concentrated on the street again. They never talked much during the way home, but it was just as well. Their relationship was quite peculiar, bordering on hostile from an outstanding perspective, but never being just that. It was a delicate, unique dance, and it was worth it, Laurent mused, considering the alternatives. 

Home came into their view. It was an outstanding old building on the edge of town, held in the Veretian style of lavish architecture, with enough hectares of land to give enough space for a nice little garden, the rest of the land generous paddocks for their horses, and almost entirely untouched forest. It was visible that old money lived here, had lived here for generations, and still the villa was in very good shape since the head of the family took good care of it. Laurent had grown up in this house, had been a child in this house, had left it only for the five saddest and worst years of his life and had returned to it happily when it had been possible. Nicaise, who had been born in poverty and therefore should have known better, regarded the wealth of the Aurifère villa with the cool disinterest of someone who was used to being lavished with riches for merely existing, hopping out of the BMW as soon as Laurent had parked it in the garage and running up the marmoreal stairs leading into the house without another word.

Laurent shook his head and followed him at a slower pace, still deep in thought. When he entered the living room, he crossed ways with Paschal, who nodded at him with a small smile. Laurent stood and they shook hands rather like friends, not like employee and member of the employing family at all, which they were as well, but not in the first place.  
“He’s well today,” Paschal told him with another small smile and noticeable fondness, putting his hands in the pockets of his coat while he spoke, as was his habit. “You can risk taking a short walk with him through the gardens since the weather is nice, but make sure that he doesn’t overdo it. Don’t let him forget his meds, either.”

“I won’t,” Laurent promised and waved the physician goodbye before continuing his way into the house. He stopped at the kitchen, allowing the cook – a big, friendly Beta woman who had taken a special liking to him – to pour him a glass of water and hand him some slices of sweet, fruity orange cake. Taking both items with him, he left the kitchen again and went up into the salon. The salon was one of the biggest rooms in the entire house, a wide, spacious place with a front entirely made of windows reaching from the floor to the ceiling, allowing for an unconfined gaze into the garden and flooding the salon with light. The piano that had belonged to their mother stood there, fitting into the salon just like the thick, expansive carpet that swallowed every footstep and the couch that was big enough to allow at least five people to comfortably sit on it. As it was, the couch was where he found Auguste today, carefully stretched out on it with natural grace. He was wearing comfortable pants and a white shirt, the first two buttons casually opened, while he read the newspaper, looking up with a smile when Laurent entered the room. 

“Welcome back home, Lulu,” he said warmly and Laurent, taking a deep breath, felt a bit of his tension fall off of him when he put both water and cake on the polished table in front of the sofa and carefully hugged his brother. He allowed him to place a gentle kiss on top of his head, only letting go when Auguste started to sit up a little more, pushing himself up by holding onto the couch and Laurent equally. Laurent made sure that he was alright before sitting down next to him with a sigh. He knew that Auguste was able to tell that he was not at his best, knowing his scent well enough to gather this bit of information.

“We’re taking a short walk,” Auguste unsurprisingly told him with a gentle smile, “And you’re going to tell me what’s bothering you.”

With a sigh, Laurent stood up and fetched Auguste’s crutches without any protest. “Are you in pain?” he asked, listening to Auguste’s quiet laughter that accompanied his negation, which only meant that he was not as much in pain as he was most days, but Laurent took what he could get and watched Auguste grab the crutches, getting up on his feet slowly, carefully, but finally standing nevertheless. As if he had known, Nicaise peeked into the room at this very moment and went inside when he found Auguste standing.

“Are we talking a walk?” he asked, softer around Auguste than he ever would be around Laurent alone and smiling when Auguste nodded while Laurent was opening one of the windows that doubled as a door so that Auguste could step outside into the gardens without having to navigate through half of the house before. While Nicaise bounced off right away, always staying in sight but running around freely between the bushes, trees and rows of flower beds, Laurent remained right at Auguste’s side. His brother was walking slowly, an obvious limp in his gait, but his face was serene as he smiled at Laurent.

“Tell me what’s bothering you, Lulu,” he said and his voice sounded like a plea more than anything else. Auguste had never taken advantage of his status as an Alpha towards Laurent and Nicaise, had only used his firm voice when absolutely necessary, and Laurent adored him even more for this fact and seldom denied him anything.

“It’s nothing,” he murmured, looking down to the grass when Auguste raised a brow and taking a deep breath before deciding to spill his beans. “I…was confronted with Damianos Heliopoulos today.”

“Ah,” Auguste said softly and nothing more. When Laurent looked up, he found his brother’s face carefully neutral. “Yes. You told me that he started attending the same university as you, but I haven’t given it much thought, to be honest. Maybe that was a mistake. I just…didn’t think that he would approach you.”

“I was so close to slapping him,” Laurent said and listened to Auguste’s quiet laughter, his face still thoughtful and carefully neutral, only that Auguste never really was neutral, never really managed to. “He ruined my entire lesson on history of law. I love that course – and he ruined it for me. I don’t even know why he was there, he’s not studying law.”

Auguste said nothing, which was so unlike him that it immediately caught Laurent’s attention. Meeting Laurent’s gaze, Auguste said calmly, “I need a break.”

“Alright,” Laurent agreed and stepped closer to support Auguste a little more, despite knowing fully well that it hurt his brother’s pride. “Can you make it to the pavilion?”

“I think so,”Auguste murmured, eyeing the small, white pavilion mere two-hundred meters away like a warrior preparing for a battle before slowly but determinedly making his way towards it. When they arrived, Nicaise was already lounging on one of the chaise-longue-shaped seatings, looking at them with an unreadable expression as Laurent gently helped Auguste onto another chaise longue and fluffed up the soft brown and golden pillows behind him. For a moment, Auguste just lay there, eyes closed and breath hard, before he opened his eyes again and looked at Laurent, who had seated himself in the only rocking chair, a beautiful, intricate thing that had been claimed by him early on; not even Nicaise sat in it. The rocking chair was positioned in a way that made it possible for Auguste to tread a hand through Laurent’s hair, and when he did, he spoke very softly. “You have to let go, Laurent. It was an honorable match and certainly not Damen’s fault.”

“ _Damen_ ,” Laurent echoed, putting all the disgust he felt at the mere mention of him in two syllables. Nicaise rolled his eyes, fished a small bottle of pink, glittery nail polish out of his impossibly tight hot pants and started doing his nails. 

“Laurent just needs a good fuck to loosen him up,” Nicaise said without looking up, “He hasn’t had a single heat without suppressants so far.”

Auguste sighed. “That is an entirely different topic and one I will not discuss with Laurent in front of you, Nicaise,” he said very softly, since his softness was one of the only things that made Nicaise shut up and Laurent was glad for it because it prevented him from an answer that would have been true, but ugly. “What I’m trying to say is that your anger is not justified, Laurent. It wasn’t his fault.”

Laurent’s mouth said nothing, but apparently his eyes spoke volumes because Auguste sighed again, then waved his hand and continued, “Let it go, Lulu. It’s all in the past. I hold no grudge and so should you.”

“Alright,” Laurent agreed and tried to smile, but it was cold. It was enough to satisfy Auguste, however, since his brother had never stopped believing in his thorough honesty, and so he earned a small smile. Nicaise on the other hand, who was cold and cunning just like him, knew right away. Their eyes met for a moment, finding together in the unspoken agreement that Damianos was a disgraceful bastard and would never be welcomed in their lives or their hearts.


	2. Auguste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so very much for your lovely comments, I really appreciate it! :)  
> A few notes at the beginning:  
> -I don't know much about American universities, so the university in this fanfic is based on European universities.  
> -How ruts, heats and the like work in this AU will be explained bit by bit in the following chapters, don't worry.
> 
> Have fun! :)

In this new life after the accident, there was only so much Auguste was able to do.

On most days, this was surprisingly fine by him. He had never had much of a temper for an Alpha and just like his brother he was a thinker, though much more extrovert than Laurent, which probably was not that hard to achieve. There were days, the worst ones, where thinking was hard for him now, but fortunately they remained few and far in between, his brain having survived the accident and the following three years of coma almost intact. It was a miracle and not a small one, big enough to make up for his physical disabilities on most days. 

On some days, however, the daily routine that had manifested in his life weighed heavily on his shoulders. He woke up, tired and aching. The first set of exercises was the heaviest, but it was necessary on most days to be able to move his fingers, his entire hands. The way into the bathroom afterwards was almost unmanageable and in the end only manageable with his wheelchair. Then, after a shower and some slow dressing, the second set of exercises, this time for his legs. Breakfast with Laurent and Nicaise, the former fully composed and quiet, the latter too asleep and grumpy to even acknowledge him with full answers. Waving goodbye to both of them in the morning sometimes was the hardest thing; he never was really alone in a house with a cook, a maid, Paschal and their personal security consisting of Jord and Lazar, but it was different. The boys were his duty and he always was worried for them, now more so than ever. The third set of exercises he did with Paschal, usually in the salon, slow stretches of his entire body when he was able to, more hand exercises when he was not. A lonely lunch accompanied with work he could do from the couch, laptop opened in front of him, then a nap because of utter exhaustion. The fourth set of exercises when he woke up again – then homework with Nicaise after Laurent had dropped him, usually driving back to university again afterwards with exception of Monday, only returning late in the evening. Another nap while he waited for him. Dinner with Nicaise and Laurent, the former idly chattering, the latter quiet and soft from exhaustion he would never admit. Kissing both of them goodnight before crawling back in bed and sleeping until the next morning. 

And always, always the pain. 

There was not much he could do about it. Paschal did not allow him to take more painkillers than absolutely necessary and he was thankful for it, but the pain ate away on his energy, a part of him always busy with keeping it in check. On good days, he almost felt next to none of it. On his worst days, he could not even get out of bed. Walking was exhausting. Thinking was exhausting. Leaving the house was exhausting. 

Sometimes, Auguste looked at the horses peacefully wandering along the meadows in the distance. There had been a time where he had taken long rides with Laurent, starting at dawn and not returning until dusk. Now, he did not even manage the way to the stalls on his own two feet. In the end, the only thing he was still good for, as an Alpha and as a person, was protecting his two Omega wardens – and he had not even been able to fully do that as well. Sometimes, on very dark days, he wondered if it would have made a difference to take them back from his and Laurent’s uncle right after waking up from the coma, without leaving them for two more years while he had struggled to recover as much as he could.

(“No,” Laurent had said softly when he had asked him, once, drunk and breaking down, his blue eyes not hard, but full with love for him which Auguste did not deserve, and on the other hand full with emptiness Auguste could not free him from. It had been the only time they had talked about it after the lawsuit had been won.)

So he had his brother and his adopted brother and he loved both of them, loved being able to provide a stable home and some source of comfort for them, but sometimes he missed his life from before. He missed the sex, the easy flirting in bars that never lead to anything else anymore, missed the dancing that would never happen again, missed his friends that had built lives for themselves while he had slept, missed easy communication that sometimes was hard to him now, and he missed easy studying. Finishing his economy degree seemed like a dream, especially with little to no help. 

Right now, staring at his notes, Auguste thought of Damen, who was studying the same right now without any of these problems. And yet, he could not find it in him to be angry at him or mad with fury like Laurent. They had been friends once, before the accident, and it was regrettable, really, to have lost someone like Damen. He thought of the talk he and Laurent had had the other day in the gardens, though of Damen sitting in one of the course rooms at university, thought of the daily struggle of getting up and actually attending courses in persona instead of relying on streams and notes for exams. 

Laurent looked up from his spot on the floor where he had spread his own books and notes about some law course in front of him, long lashes framing his bright eyes. “What’s wrong, Frou-frou?” he asked and Auguste smiled fondly at the nickname.

“Nothing much, chouchou,” he answered with a smile, but it was not enough to satisfy Laurent, who just frowned and abandoned his books to lean into Auguste, knowing fully well that the contact with a familiar Omega was as soothing to Auguste as it had to be soothing to be in contact with him for Laurent. “Did you see Damen again?”

Laurent stiffened in his arms, not saying a word for several minutes before he finally replied, very curtly, “Yes.”

“Ah,” Auguste said and wondered whether he should add a question or not, when Laurent surprisingly added on his own, “He asked me about you.”

For a moment, Auguste listened to his own body, the way his heart sluggishly pumped blood through his veins, the pain creeping through his limps. He slightly moved his fingers to keep them from getting stiff, then he asked, “What did you say?”

“I told him to get lost.” Laurent let out a slight huff that showed his indignation at Damen’s mere existence. “Maybe if I tell him often enough, he’ll get it somehow and stop bothering me, though I almost cannot believe it. Nicaise says he’s like a dog that doesn’t get that he can’t catch his own tail.”

It was interesting, really, to see on which rare matters Laurent and Nicaise actually agreed. Auguste sighed and pulled Laurent deeper against his chest, ignoring the slight stiffness in his brother’s limbs before he relaxed into the touch, hiding his face against Auguste’s chest. For a moment he found simple comfort in stroking Laurent’s soft golden hair before he pressed a gentle kiss on the top of his head and said, “I’m worried about you, Lulu. You should go out more often. This can’t be much fun.”

“I like studying with you.”

“You’re studying,” Auguste pointed out, “I am looking at my books and dozing off every fifteen minutes because I can’t concentrate. It’s Friday evening. You should be out there at a party-“

“Where they’d probably put something in my drink in hopes of causing me to get into heat so that there can be a huge orgy with everyone involved. If I wanted to get fucked that desperately, I would just take one of the advances made at me every now and then.”

Auguste growled a little and could feel Laurent’s lips stretch into a small smile of victory against his chest. “Alright, I don’t like that idea. But there are parties without all that as well. And anyways, it’s not about what I want – and even if it were, I would want you to lead a normal, healthy life.” Laurent said nothing even after several moments, so Auguste carefully added, “I’m just saying that Vannes called me twice to ask whether I can convince you to go to that party she invited you to this evening.”

“It’s a college party,” Laurent said after a pause, voice carefully neutral, “I like college, but I don’t like most people attending it. I don’t like drinking either.”

“But you like dancing,” Auguste pointed out, which was met with silence. He carefully continued stroking Laurent’s hair, giving him time and space to think before adding, “I just think that an evening out with Vannes would be nice. You could take Jord with you, or Lazar.”

“You like surrounding me with sturdy Betas.”

“I do,” Auguste agreed, not finding the need to hide a simple truth like that, and then he said, “I’ll go with you to university next Monday. I have something to talk to there.”

“Alright,” Laurent said easily, almost flippantly, and then much gentler, “We were talking about the party.”

“The party.”

“The party Vannes wants me to attend with her. You told me I could take Jord or Lazar with me.”

“Right. Yes. You should go, Laurent. Maybe you’d find someone nice, a male Omega, or a Beta – making out can be nice as well, you know. I don’t want you to be lonely.”

“I am not. I’ve got you – and Nicaise, I guess, but he is a pain in the ass, so he doesn’t really count. I am not lonely, Auguste. I’m fine.”

“Alright,” Auguste murmured, not being able to press Laurent any further, stroking his hair again instead. They fell asleep like that, and when Nicaise passed the salon on his way to the kitchen for a late night snack, he promptly climbed into their mess of limbs and was greeted with sleepy arms and sleepy yawns. 

The next day was a Saturday and they decided to go shopping since Nicaise needed new shoes, Laurent was adamant on finding a new pen to write with and Auguste simply needed a break from home, even though navigating through public always weighed down on him. An Alpha in a wheelchair seldom was enough to stop lewd remarks in Laurent’s direction, sometimes even into Nicaise’s, and it hurt like hell. He tended to avoid it, cursing himself for his own cowardice, yet finding himself drawn to other people anew every time. 

The boys never minded the wheelchair, and today was no exception. Auguste watched them bicker and could feel the fond expression on his face, too tired to be much of help except giving a hearty applause at every pair of shoes Nicaise showed him – and it was a lot of shoes, so many that even Laurent lost count and Nicaise, so bad at deciding, bought two pairs, but only because Auguste told him that he would not pay for another pair – and nodding at every pen Laurent showed him, carefully balancing each of them in his elegant fingers before deciding on a model of simple elegance in black and silver. They took turns in rolling him around and Auguste indulged them, secretly glad that he could rest a little. Their last stop was at the pharmacy; Auguste and Nicaise decided to wait outside while Laurent walked inside with prescriptions for both his suppressants and Auguste’s painkillers.

“When I’m getting my first heats, I won’t suppress them at all,” Nicaise suddenly said, effectively preventing Auguste from nodding off while waiting. The boy was staring at the entrance of the pharmacy as if he were able to see Laurent through the thick wooden door by doing so, a small frown between his brows. A long, hanging sapphire earring glinted in his left ear and Auguste looked at it for a moment before he sighed.

Tiredness was settled deep in his bones today and he tried to shake it off before replying, “You can’t just go around without taking suppressants, Nicaise, at the age of fouteen or fifteen on top of that - you're too young. I have to take suppressants for my ruts as well. If you really wanted to go entirely without and without having a partner, I’d have to lock you up at home and that would be…you would be in pain and I don’t want you to be in pain. Not to mention that I will never allow you going through your first heats in full.”  
“Finding an Alpha for heat-fucking isn’t that hard,” Nicaise replied with a shrug, still watching the door. “Even Laurent could find one if he wasn’t such a – if he were interested in it.”

“He doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to,” Auguste said with emphasis, which caused Nicaise to tear away his gaze from the door and focus his attention on him. “Also, suppressants don’t let your heat completely subside, Niní, they only allow you to keep a relatively clear head, prevent pregnancy and help avoiding the cramps, and they suppress the scent. You’re still in heat with them, just –“

“Just not really,” Laurent finished the sentence for him, having appeared so suddenly beside them that Nicaise jumped and glared at him for causing him to do so. “which is exactly what I want. Don’t think about it too much. It’s not that exciting.”

“Nothing is ever exciting for you,” Nicaise murmured, but he sounded petulant and so Auguste suggested something to eat before they headed home to keep the nice atmosphere of the day, happy when his suggestion is met with approval. They found a lovely restaurant serving Patran dishes, which was just as well for all of them and so they took advantage of the lovely, warm weather and sat down outside, Auguste in the middle. Auguste decided in less than ten minutes on what to eat; Laurent and Nicaise took fifteen to twenty minutes, mostly because they were busy insulting each other’s choices in the most courteous ways possible with small, polite smiles until Auguste gently told them to get along. 

He watched them while they ate, taking silent pride in their healthy appetites and smiling when they started arguing again, still so painfully polite in front of him. All things considered, it was a peaceful moment and Auguste carefully treasured it, taking it as another reason for putting up with his damaged body and the pain day after day after day, trying not to think about all the things he had not been able to do for them, the things he would never be able to do for them and the things that upset them without him being unable to provide help except the simple comfort of hugs.

He was trying his best. For a moment, Auguste thought of Damen and decided that sometimes, trying your best was everything that counted.


	3. Laurent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An on this goes :D

After ten minutes on the gynecology chair, Laurent felt ready to explode.

He knew that it was important to check everything through every now and then, so he just pressed his teeth together until they hurt and said nothing, focusing on the ceiling above him. It was painted with various historical scenes since they had shaped one of the villa’s rooms into Paschal’s office. It meant safety and security and Paschal was someone Laurent trusted with his life, but that did not make the entire process easier. 

“Your penis is perfectly fine,” Paschal told him. Laurent just nodded, withholding a sigh, and upon Paschal’s request he gently pushed it onto his stomach and held it there to make it easier for Paschal to see what was underneath.

“I’ll be quick,” Paschal promised and Laurent just nodded again, lifting his gaze back onto the ceiling when Paschal warmed up the metal hinges of the speculum. This was the part he hated the most and he could not help but tense up. Paschal, who had known him ever since he had been a child and had treated him for a long time now, paused and gently touched his knee for about a second. When their eyes met, Laurent forced his worries down, controlled his breath and finally nodded at the physician to proceed. Paschal watched him for a moment longer before returning back to the speculum, coating it very generously with lube before slowly inserting it into the opening between cock and rear that every Omega possessed instead of balls. It was painful; Laurent was still tense and gritted his teeth, the hand that did not push back his cock tightly gripping the chair’s armrest. But Paschal, ever true to his word, was quick and the speculum was gone after what could not have been longer than a minute. Laurent slowly exhaled, then equally slowly loosened his grip. 

“The ultrasound just to make sure, and then we’re done,” Paschal told him. Laurent nodded again, staring into the eyes of a painted deer above him while he let go of his cock and Paschal coated his stomach with more lube and moved the sensor over his skin while he stared at the screen next to where Laurent was seated. After a while, he nodded and put the sensor away before turning off the screen.

“Go towel yourself up, Master Laurent, I’ll talk to you afterwards,” he said. Laurent watched his frowned face and nodded, slipping from the chair as fast as possible. Cleaning himself up did not take more than a few moments, just like dressing himself again. When he was done he sat down in front of Paschal’s desk, meeting the physician’s gaze evenly.

“Your next heat should be in a few weeks,” Paschal said after a slight pause, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. “You have never had a heat without suppressants so far, am I correct?”

“You are,” said Laurent.

“You should consider finding a partner for this one instead,” Paschal said after a slight pause. “The pain during your bleedings afterwards is going to get worse and worse if you don’t take a break with the suppressants.”

“I can handle pain,” replied Laurent.

“I know you can, but this can cause serious damage in your insides,” Paschal said, folding his hands underneath his chin now. “It is highly possible that you would have to be admitted to a hospital in the process. Of course, the fact that you start taking suppressants two to one week before the actual heat despite my repeated warnings has only contributed in giving you such thick tissue in your uterus that you are going to not only bleed massively afterwards, but also be under much pain.” Paschal sighed. “Not to mention the risk that this heightened intake of suppressants may lead to them failing you one day because your body may get accustomed to them.”

Laurent said nothing. Paschal watched him silently for a moment, then his expression visibly softened. “I know that you don’t wish for a partner during your heat, Master Laurent,” he said, his tone as gentle as his gaze. “And we both know why. But I think that Master Auguste would be delighted in finding a suitable, worthy partner to help you through.”

Laurent breathed out. He felt sick, but merely rubbed his temple in slow, even circles. “That is not an option for me,” he finally said calmly. “Would I be able to just…remain on my own during that time?”

“Probably,” Paschal agreed thoughtfully after a moment before he added, “Even though I must say that the first heat without suppressants is always very demanding. It would be easier if you had a partner to calm you down, most favorably an Alpha of course, but I think a Beta would do as well.”

Laurent nodded and silently thought about it for a minute before he said, “I will talk to Auguste.”

“Of course, Master Laurent,” Paschal easily agreed, rising up from his chair to lead him out of his office. Once outside, Laurent let out a shaky breath; his fingers were trembling and he flexed them once, twice in hopes of causing them to stop twitching. With a sigh, he decided to take a shower first and climbed up the stairs to his room. 

His room was located at the utmost end of the first floor. Not only was it big enough to have more than enough space for the ridiculously soft King Size bed with its four pillars of light wood and the blue curtains Laurent could close whenever he wanted to, but it also contained a closet that was wide enough to almost take up one wall for itself. The other walls were lined with rows and rows of books, so many of them that it almost could be called a little library. He had no eyes for them for now; instead, he focused on wandering over the soft carpet into the bathroom that was his alone, which meant blessed privacy from everyone.

The shower was efficient in relaxing him; for a while he just stood underneath the water spray and let himself get soaked, only shaking his head every now and then to get the water out of his eyes. He looked down at his toes, his knees, his hands, the same just like every time he had looked at them. With a small sigh, he reached for the soap and began cleaning himself with quick, efficient motions, not lingering everywhere longer than necessary. 

When he finally emerged from the shower, forty-five minutes had passed and he felt much calmer. Since he had no business to attend to outside the house today, he decided to dress in a loose dark shirt, laces partially hanging open, and comfortable pants before he walked back downstairs and into the salon on bare feet, brushing his hair while doing so. He tried not to think about anything in particular and failed, so he tried to direct his thoughts in specific directions next, which worked quite well. 

Auguste was napping when he entered the room, but lightly enough to open his eyes as soon as Laurent made a step towards him. He looked at him with sleepy eyes and yawned loudly before sitting up a little. Laurent hurried to curl up beside him and support him a little, rubbing his cheek against Auguste’s shoulder. As long as he had Auguste, Laurent thought for a second, he did not have need for a partner; his brother’s comfort as an Alpha familiar to him was more than enough.

“Hey there,” Auguste murmured and gently stroked Laurent’s hair. “Are you already done with your appointment?”

“Yes,” Laurent affirmed and leaned a little more into Auguste’s touch.

“Did it go well?”

There were many ways in which Laurent could have answered to that question. Instead he said, “I think Nicaise should go see Paschal soon as well. He’s turning fifteen soon, after all. Can’t take much longer.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Auguste promised and continued carding his fingers through Laurent’s still partially-wet hair. “Are you alright?”

_If only I could talk to him_ , Laurent thought, but talking sometimes was hard when it came to certain things. He was quiet for a while, trying to find the right words, and Auguste as always showed enough patience to let him. It was something that caused him to at least try to open up. “Paschal said that I should consider taking less suppressants,” he finally began slowly and could feel Auguste’s focus shift in on him. 

“But you don’t want to do that,” Auguste gently concluded and was quiet for a while. “Well, it is your body, Laurent. I just want you to feel comfortable. You still have a bit time to decide. Do you – should I try to find you someone to…?”

“No,” said Laurent, and he sighed. “I just…I just want it to be simple.”

“It can be simple, Lulu,” Auguste told him and kissed the top of his head. “Maybe – we could either find you someone suitable for a tumble or – well, I could pick someone to court you, if you like.”

“That,” said Laurent, “is very old-fashioned. Are we back in the medieval ages now where Omegas were married to whoever their Alpha warden chose? Why not do it like the ancient Akielons where Omegas were mere slaves to subdue at will?”

Auguste tried to tickle him, which Laurent swiftly avoided. “Don’t be silly, you know what I mean. I mean – it is old-fashioned, I know, but I would pick someone you could trust and maybe that would be helpful?”

“Auguste. No.”

“Alright. Whatever you want.” 

A kiss on the top of his head again. They were quiet for a while, just breathing in each other’s scent and presence, then Laurent said, “But I could find someone for you.”  
Auguste laughed. His grip around Laurent tightened for a second before he loosened it again.

“Hypocrite,” Laurent said quietly, a smile on his lips even though he did not really feel it, his heart aching. 

Auguste laughed harder and rubbed Laurent’s back in slow circles, then he said with sobering seriousness, “There’s something else you could do. On the good side, it’s pretty surely going to be easier than finding me a mate that is interested in me and not the money I could spend on her in this state.”

Laurent poked his side in gentle admonishment, then he shrugged. “I would do anything for you.”

“Go to Damen and tell him that I would like to talk to him,” said Auguste.

“Anything,” replied Laurent, “except for that.”

“Please,” said Auguste after a slight pause, looking at him with wide blue eyes. It was not fair; it never was. Laurent was weak in the light of his brother’s plea and Auguste knew it. “It’s important to me,” Auguste continued and looked at him. “I wanted to it myself, accompany you to university and look for him, but I – I can’t.” He took a deep breath, shaking with the effort of holding himself together, then he straightened himself out. “I can’t talk to him in public, well, not like that. A café, perhaps, but outside, that would do… But you can get in contact with him.”

Laurent, helpless in the face of Auguste’s honesty, closed his eyes and sighed. “I don’t want to talk to him.”

“Please,” Auguste said again and stroked Laurent’s hair. “You only have to give him my number. I have to make peace with myself – with this thing. You don’t have to do anything else. I wouldn’t ask you if I could do it myself.”

“Why are you doing this to me,” Laurent murmured, but there was no heat behind it. Instead, he put his head into Auguste’s lap and closed his eyes. For a while, it was quiet while he thought, strong fingers tangled in his hair. Then he took a deep breath and said, “Alright. But I don’t want him here in this house, and I’m pretty sure the same goes for Nicaise.”

“I would never bring an Alpha in this house without your permissions and you know that. Your safety is more important to me than anything else,” said Auguste with audible relief, his fingernails gently scraping over Laurent’s scalp. “Thank you, Lulu. It means a lot to me.”

“I know,” said Laurent, “Otherwise I wouldn’t do it.”


	4. Damen

Ever since he had returned home from war, he could not sleep anymore. 

It wasn't because Kastor had stolen Jokaste from him while he had been fighting at the front and Jokaste had apparently gone willingly, because nobody could simply press Jokaste into doing things, not even the strongest, biggest Alpha, not even Kastor. Losing her had hurt like hell; he had spent so much time courting her and they had been good together. He had even thought about marrying her, in the lazy way one thought about marrying his best friend, and now his beautiful Beta girlfriend was not his girlfriend anymore and pregnant with his brother's child on top of that. Sometimes he still dreamed of her face, but it never was a nightmare; mostly she remained in the shadows, watching him without a word, without a touch, forever out of his reach. 

It wasn't because of his father's illness either, although it bothered him so very much when he was awake. Theomedes had always been a strong man, the kind of father being able to carry two of his children at the same time, but now he was wilting way right before Damen's eyes and it was almost unbearable. He tried to visit as often as he could, tried to study hard and thoroughly to be able to lead the company - _just in case_ , he told himself, and never dared to finish his own thought. Just in case. 

What really haunted him was the blood, the stench of death. What haunted him was a misstep on his behalf, blue eyes wide and blood splattering on the grass, years ago and still fresh on his mind. What haunted him were broken bones and screams ringing in his ears, despair and hopelessness soaking his body just like the rain, the feeling of never being able to feel warm again so clear, so true that he could not think of anything else.

Damen woke with a gasp. For a moment, he did not know where he was, so he ducked out of bed and rolled underneath it. Lying there, breath still hard, it came back to him with a glance to his watch: it was 0645 in the morning and he was at his room in the residential home for students at the local college. His first lesson was at 1230. He had all the time in the world, and he was safe, everyone was safe, so he rolled out from underneath the bed with a deep sigh before he got on his feet and dragged himself into the tiny bathroom, feeling the sweat pool between his shoulder blades, his chest muscles. 

The shower did miracles for him. He felt better already when he stepped out of it with a clear head and clean skin, shaving the rather dark stubble on his cheeks and jaw for an even cleaner look before trying to tame his even darker curls, giving up just like every day after a few moments. He was in the middle of changing into jeans and a fresh shirt when there was a knock on the door: Three impatient raps, a slight pause, then another. Nikandros. 

Damen opened him with a smile. Nikandros looked a little rumpled, apparently not having shaved at all; Damen took a good look at his slightly crumpled shirt, then he grinned. "Had a good night?" 

"Omega woman in her heat," he replied and they grinned at each other in silent approval. Unlike Damen, who liked all sorts of women - and the occasioal Omega guy - no matter if Alpha, Beta or Omega, Nikandros had a special weakness for sweet, sweet Omega women who liked being helped through their heat by a sturdy, well-built Beta like Nikandros where they did not have to worry about possible pregnancy. “She was lovely, one of the girls from Kappa Kappa Pi sorority. I’m glad I could be of service to her. You, however, look tired.”

“I love you too,” Damen answered with a laugh, deliberately ignoring the frown that appeared on Nikandros’ face. “Let’s go get something to eat, I’m starving.”

Nikandros shook his head, but he did not ask any more questions. It was likely that he knew why Damen had not slept well, having experienced war himself, and he also knew that sometimes it was preferable to not talk about these matters at all. They went out of the house in companionable chatter and if Nikandros found Damen’s answers to sound a little absent, he was even more forgiving than usual after a good night’s joy and Damen’s apparent lack thereof. 

The campus was not as lively in the morning as it would be in a few hours when everyone else had managed to get out of bed. A result of this was that they easily found a place in their usual café where Damen ordered an entire breakfast consisting of orange juice, coffee with just a hint of milk, two pieces of bread, butter, two kinds of marmalade as well as ham and eggs. He noted with delight that Nikandros had ordered the same and they bonded over their shared love for a hearty breakfast.

"So," Nikandros said casually between two bites, "Do you want to talk about it?"

He meant the dream. Damen paused, thought about it and shook his head. "I'm fine. Say, there's a party this Friday, right?"

"Isn't there always a party on Friday when you're in college?" Nikandros replied with a small smile, mostly meant to comfort him. "But yes, one of the sororities is throwing a party. You wanna go?"

"Who's coming?"

"Don't know for sure. I think Makedon's coming with a few of his boys." Damen nodded; Makedon was an Alpha a few years older than him and they liked and respected each other well enough. He also usually brought the best alcohol as well. "And I think Torvelt's attending with his new mate." 

"That's nice." It was. Torvelt was member of one of the oldest families of Patras and a kind man. Damen had only heard rumors about his new mate so far - a male Omega of quite some beauty - and he was interested in seeing how strong their bond was. "Alright, I'm in." 

"Excellent," Nikandros said and stretched after he had finished his breakfast. Damen took the last sip from his orange juice and, with a glance at his watch, signaled for the bill, smiling gently at the waitress who smiled back, a little flustered and definitely intrigued. They both left tips for her before leaving the café and Damen immediately felt a little better when he felt the sunshine on his face. He parted ways with Nikandros after promising to see him again at training during the late afternoon and made his way to his next course. 

It had been three weeks since he had first seen Laurent Aurifère. He had not approached him again ever since, not in their course and not during the few times he had seen him at campus, blond head hidden behind book pages and notebooks. Laurent had made his distaste clear enough and Damen could understand, so he left him alone and tried not to think about him too much. 

The last part was more difficult than he had anticipated. Not older than eighteen or nineteen, Laurent was beautiful and there were a lot of people Damen knew that wanted to fuck him, even though it was well-known that Laurent never seemed to have dated anyone, never had had a Marking and never had shown any interest in these matters. On top of that, Laurent always masked his scent so well that it was almost impossible to find out what his dynamic was, which spurred on people's imagination even more. If he knew about these speculations, Laurent was completely unfazed by it, even though people sometimes embarrassingly talked loudly enough about him. Damen tried not to participate in the discussions. He vaguely had in memory that Laurent was either a Beta or an Omega, but was not sure which was true and furthermore he firmly held the opinion that it was none of his business anyway. 

When he entered the room, Laurent looked at him with a slow, almost unnoticeable turn of his head, but it was extraordinary enough that Damen almost tripped, feeling awkward and stunned. So far, Laurent had ignored him since his first outburst, pretending that he did not even existed and never even coming close to him. Slowly, Damen sat down in his usual spot a few rows behind Laurent, trying not to look at the blond back of his head and failing, just like every time. He did his best to take notes and concentrated on the lesson. In a way, law was fascinating and History of Law was held by one of his favorite professors, which had caused him to decide to take up a few courses in law to support his economic knowledge. He had learned quite quickly that Laurent was among the, if not the best in his year. It was impressive, really, mostly because Laurent was so young and Damen remembered well that he had been nowhere as studious in that age. 

When the lesson ended he packed his things, which always took a while since he had never managed bringing his belongings in an organizable system. Since his next course would begin in one and a half hours, however, he was in no hurry. When a leather bag was put on his desk in front of him, he lifted his head and immediately froze.

Laurent stood in front of him, watching him with cool blue eyes and an unreadable expression while the other students slowly filtered out of the room. He was dressed in simple clothing as always, cream-colored turtleneck sweater and black pants over polished shoes, his only accessory the simple, yet elegant silver watch on one of his slender wrists. Damen, who could not predict whether he would be stabbed in the following seconds or not, opened his mouth to speak and closed it again. Something in Laurent's eyes twinkled at that, but the rest of him did not even twitch. 

"I came to talk to you," he said, his voice as cool as his gaze but with none of the anger it had held the first time they had talked. 

Damen blinked a little. "Talk to me," he repeated.

"Not on my behalf," said Laurent, thumbing the strap of his bag in a careless gesture, his entire posture relaxed and yet Damen could not help but be on guard. "Believe me, if I could have avoided talking to you, I would have. But Auguste asked me to talk to you."

Auguste. Damen felt his blood run cold. Looking down on the table, he forced his hands to appear steady by placing his palms on the table, but he knew that Laurent had seen the tremor and something told him that Laurent would not forget about it. "What about?" he finally asked after a silence that had stretched too long to be anything near comfortable, but Laurent had made no move to break it, instead just staring at him with cool eyes. 

"You," he now answered simply before adding, "and the accident, I suppose." Damen's head reeled, but Laurent gave him no time to collect himself, instead snapping forward like a striking snake. "He told me to give you his number. Somehow he is convinced that you could actually have the guts to call. Ah, Auguste - always believing the best of people." 

Damen forced his breath to even out. Then he said, "Alright."

Laurent quirked up an eyebrow, but he reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a slip of paper, which he wordlessly handed Damen.

_Please call me. -A._

Underneath it, Auguste had written his number. Damen stared at it until his eyes burned, then he looked up and met Laurent's gaze.

Their eyes locking, Laurent said silkily, "Here is what you are going to do. You are going to call him, and you are going to meet him. If you even so much as think about not doing that, I will come for you." Damen did not even breathe when Laurent leaned forward, his hands on his bag, but his head close enough that his hair tickled Damen's cheek when he murmured into his ear, "I am going to hunt you down like an animal if you hurt my brother again. It won't be quick, and it won't be nice, and you will never recover from it, run through like a boar on a hunt when I'm done with you. Do we understand each other?"

Against all odds, Damen found himself annoyed by Laurent's behavior, insulted even in the very core of his being, so he said, "I am not afraid of you."

Laurent leaned back again and studied him for a moment. "Yet," he said, took his bag and left the room without another word.


	5. Auguste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you soooo much for all the praise and love this fanfic gets, I'm really happy about it all <3

"Laurent," said Auguste and tried to be as patient as possible, "We're just meeting for coffee."

Laurent just stared at him, his blue eyes unreadable even for Auguste. It was something he missed dearly from their childhood, where Laurent had given his thoughts and emotions freely. Nicaise next to him shrugged and continued chewing his pink bubblegum without saying anything as well. Auguste could see that Jord, who had been elected to accompany him to his meeting with Damen, had to force down a small smile. 

Auguste felt himself caving in. "Alright," he said, "you can accompany me to the café, but then you'll have to go."

Laurent's eyes visibly softened and he nodded, once. Nicaise smiled and said, "Deal."

Fortunately it was a good day, which was why Auguste was a little more dignified than usual and could at least walk on crutches. With a heavy sigh he sunk into the cushions of the co-driver’s seat and briefly closed his eyes, trying to get over the slightly queasy feeling in his guts. Despite all his will to make this meeting happen, he was still a little worried. His brothers were no help to him at all; Nicaise had loudly protested when he had heard of Auguste’s plan and Laurent had been against it from the beginning. Now they sat in the backrow and were utterly silent, which was never a good sign. When Auguste looked at them through the rearview, they both looked at him with perfectly innocent expressions, which was never a good sign either.

Jord drove all of them in perfectly composed manner, obviously trying not to be as worried as Auguste about Laurent’s and Nicaise’s silence. Auguste had chosen a café at the outskirts of the city where houses slowly melded into the wide openness of uninhabited land. The café, which truly was more of a restaurant than a café, was located at the edge of a lake full of clear blue water. The building was a white house with a terrace that faced the lake and Auguste took a moment to look at the little white tables and chairs with their colorful pillows that had been prepared for guests. This location with its distance to the rest of the world was nothing more than a safety mechanism and he was well aware of it, of the shame curling deep, deep in his broken nerves and crooked gait, of the way his stomach dropped a little at the thought of what was to come, of Damen, still strong and handsome, of Damen, who he did not blame for anything and yet –

The car stopped. Auguste swallowed most of his thoughts and hid the rest behind a smile. Laurent’s face was an icy mask of nothingness when he helped him out of the car, his grip strong and gentle. Nicaise, still so young and with an endearing innocence behind the brash beahvior he usually put forward, jumped out of the car and ran into one of the meadows with open arms. Jord trailed after him with slow, sure steps without needing to be asked. 

“How do I look?” Auguste asked Laurent, who stopped in his motions of helping Auguste with his crutches. Instead, he straightened at a very slow pace until he stood straight as an arrow and looked at him with infinitely soft blue eyes, looked at him so softly and tenderly that something in Auguste shattered, strengthened, held itself together again underneath his brother’s all-seeing, piercing gaze.

“You are,” said Laurent very quietly with that stunning, brilliant clearness in his voice he always only ever displayed when he was painfully honest, “extraordinarily handsome, and I am glad that you are my and Nicaise’s warden because you provide so very well for us. You are very good, and very strong. And if he makes you feel – not enough, I am going to wring his neck, because you are, you are everything.”

“Laurent,” Auguste said, tongue thick in his mouth, thick with something like dread and gratefulness at the same time; Laurent just looked at him for a moment longer and there were so many things Auguste wanted to tell him in that very moment, but then Jord came back with Nicaise in tow and the moment was broken.

They were early, which was just as planned because it allowed Auguste to find a table on the terrace and sink into one of the cushioned chairs before Damen could see the struggle of the process. The warmth of the sun on his skin was a gift from the gods and he closed his eyes for a moment to enjoy it in its fullness. Meanwhile, Laurent gently positioned the cushions in his back just right before he let go of him. There were only a few other guests on the terrace, none of them in their close proximity, which was just as well since it allowed a little more privacy. Jord sat down on one of the other tables and opened a book he had brought with him. For a moment, Auguste listened to the calm, quiet murmur of the people around him and watched Nicaise crouching down at the lake’s bank, dipping one of his small hands into the cool water, no doubt in the fruitless, but ambitious intent to catch one of the brown fish with his bare hand. Laurent remained standing next to him, silently waiting like a puma ready to pounce, impassive and beautiful in the gentle breeze that ruffled through his hair. 

Just when he had ordered some coffee, he could hear the rumbling of another car parking in front of the café. Laurent’s gaze did not change, but doutlessly he had heard it too and his face turned stony when the red pick-up truck became visible, together with a broad-shouldered figure with tousled dark hair stepping out of it. Auguste sat up straighter and could not help but smile: When Damen walked closer, he still looked the same despite his solemn, openly worried look in his eyes. At the lake, Nicaise had stopped trying to catch a fish and instead straightened up, watching Damen with open hostility on his angelic face before he started to come closer as well. 

“I think it’s time for you to go,” said Auguste and looked up at Laurent, who met his gaze and nodded curtly, so obviously not pleased at all with the current situation, but he left Auguste after a quick kiss to his cheek and stepped towards Nicaise to firmly grasp his hand. Auguste noticed when Damen came to a halt in front of Laurent; a few words were exchanged, but they were too far away for him to hear them. Damen sounded soft and quiet where Laurent was curt and biting, which was what was to be expected. They exchanged looks while Nicaise no doubt effortlessly insulted everything about Damen, then Laurent tugged on Nicaise’s sleeve and pulled him away with a last long look into Auguste’s direction, Jord on their heels to drive them back into the city and then come back with the car, which meant blessed thirty minutes utterly alone with Damen. 

Damen was an Alpha who got respect without having to demand it. Auguste had been the same, once, or at least that was what he liked to think, but now he was merely a shadow compared to Damen, who walked towards him with the slow, heavy steps of a guilty murderer facing his inevitable trial. How silly it was, Auguste silently wondered, that Damen blamed himself for what had happened, yet Auguste knew that he would have done the same had it been the other way around, which was exactly why he had to do this – for his sake, and for Damen’s as well. 

“I hope you don’t mind me not standing up to greet you,” he said with a light, joking undertone as Damen was close enough that he could see the specks in his eyes. “It has nothing to do with disrespect. I’m – really, very happy to see you, Damen.”

Damen sat down and folded his hands on the table, looking down at them for a moment before he took a deep breath and said, “I’m…glad. Glad to see you, I mean. I thought…I didn’t know for a long time what…what had happened to you, exactly. They only told me that fortunately you didn’t die.”

Auguste thought of the long months of recovery, months following the years of coma, months and years full of pain and sweat and tears, and sighed deeply. “I didn’t. And I’m not sure you want to know what happened after the accident.”

“Please,” said Damen, reaching forward without a thought; the tips of his fingers came to rest on the back of Auguste’s hand. “Please. I have to know. I can’t sleep – I can’t sleep because of it.” There was something in his voice, a tremble that echoed in his dark eyes and the corners of his mouth - and Auguste knew exactly how he felt. He gained a little time through the waitress coming to their table and asking for their wishes. After she had left, he took a deep breath and collected himself.

“I was in a coma,” he said and watched Damen’s face drop, his shoulders slumping forward. “For three years. When I woke up, I had a hard time recovering. My – well, it took me a few weeks until I could speak properly again, but I was lucky because my brain survived all of it almost entirely intact. It’s a little…difficult for me, sometimes, to…remember things or keep my thoughts in track, but I manage and I’m fine, mostly. What’s not so fine is the permanent injury in my spine. I have to use a wheelchair on most days because otherwise my legs give out. I get tired very quickly, so that is an issue too, but other than that, I’m fine.”

“Other than that, you’re fine,” Damen repeated. He looked like a man who had witnessed the murder of another and Auguste could not help but pat his lower arm in sympathy.

“I told you,” he said, “You shouldn’t have asked what’s happened. It’s…I don’t want you to blame yourself, it wasn’t your fault. I never believed for a single second that it was your fault.”

Damen let out a breath before he laughed; it was a bitter sound from a man hardened by life and Auguste watched him carefully, noting the weariness in Damen’s eyes. “When I was at war,” said Damen finally, “I dreamed of you – lying dead to my feet, telling me that it was my fault. When I came back, it was the same. And then your brother-“

“Please, don’t take Laurent seriously in this matter,” Auguste said, then amended, “Well, do take him seriously, but not that seriously. He is quite…we are very close, have always been and he has been… very upset by my accident. It is easier for him to blame you than blame fate, but that does not make him right. I can only tell you that it probably will wear off after a while. Well – maybe it also won’t and he will hate you infinitely. It’s hard to say.”

“He is very beautiful,” Damen said after a small pause, then groaned and rubbed his face. “Oh my God, I am so sorry. I came here to talk about – you, and probably say sorry and ask you whether you want to be friends again, not to talk about how attractive your brother is.”

“We can do both,” Auguste replied and found himself smiling. “Even though you don’t have to say sorry, Damen. It’s fine.”

“I should have at least visited you. But I was…I thought that I wasn’t welcome, so I just…I stayed away.” Damen took another deep breath. “I was scared, I guess.”

“We were younger back then,” Auguste said and for the first time in a long while he felt like the stronger one facing Damen’s distress. “Don’t worry so much. I’d be glad to – to be friends with you again. To be honest, I…missed a friend in the last years.”

Damen frowned and was interrupted by the waitress bringing their food and drinks. After she had left, Damen took a bite from his steak, swallowed and then said, “But you always had a lot of friends.”

“I was busy keeping an eye over the boys and winning custody for them,” Auguste replied and dug into his pork filet. What he did not say was that he had made the uncomfortable experience of how quickly people could forget about others when they were not able to cater to their needs anymore. There was no need to burden Damen even further with knowledge like that.

“Custody,” Damen echoed and frowned even more, “How so? And why – the other kid? The one that called me a, what was it, a tasteless piece of monkey fucker?”

“That’s Nicaise, he has his own charm,” Auguste said and found himself laughing before he looked back down at his plate. “Well. While I was in a coma and then started rehab, my uncle was Laurent’s warden as the only functional Alpha in our family at that time – Nicaise he took in later, as his foster child, since Nicaise’s parents were too poor to be able to feed him through.” He could not tell Damen what his uncle had done, could not tell him about the long weeks Laurent had not spoken a single word without having been asked beforehand, the jittery, almost ecstatic way Nicaise had behaved, the pain of knowing the extension of his failure. So he just said, “It is quite a complicated story and not mine alone to tell, so let’s leave it at that, if it’s alright with you. Don’t be insulted by Nicaise – he’s fourteen and still cruel as a child sometimes.”

“Well, I’m sure you’re taking good care of them,” Damen said softly, eyes warm in an Alpha’s simple understanding of another Alpha’s need to take care of his beloved. It was a level of understanding Auguste had come to miss in his life and finding it again made him smile. “I….can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Auguste immediately allowed and took a sip of his glass of water. At some point, Jord had come back and sat down on the table he had occupied before, now almost invisible behind the newspaper he had brought with him. 

For a moment Damen slowly chewed, presumably deep in thought, before he swallowed and quietly asked, “How are you holding up? I mean…you told me how it was a while ago. But…has it gotten better? Worse? Is this stressful for you?”

“It’s a little tiring,” Auguste admitted and concentrated on his food for a moment before he added, “But I’m fine. Today is a good day. Since you asked me, I won’t lie to you – there are a few pretty bad days as well, but usually I’m fine. Don’t worry. I just…I don’t like talking about it much, to be quite honest.”

Damen nodded and smiled a little, then took a sip of his water. “I don’t know if you’re still interested in sports-“

“God, yes. Laurent and Nicaise are so painfully uninterested in sports and watching a match with them gives me a headache. I’m trying to keep up with football and soccer, but it’s a little hard for me. Are you still doing swordplay?”

“No,” said Damen after a pause, “I’ve given it up after your accident. But I’m playing football at university now. Do you – I mean, do you want to come to the next match, maybe? Only if you want to, though.”

Auguste smiled. There had been a time where he and Damen had played with each other in the gardens of the Aurifére and Heliopoulos mansions, childish, joyous, carefree. They had been younger back then and it had been a different time in their lives; when their eyes met, they both knew that those times would never come back. “I’d love to,” he still said because it was true – and perhaps it would be good for him to get out of the house more often. “Say – you’re studying economy, right?”

“Yes,” Damen agreed with a bit of surprise, “I decided to give it a shot – after all, I’m supposed to take over the company at some point, since father doesn’t want Kastor as CEO.”

“I continued studying it a year ago as well,” Auguste admitted, “But I am having a few difficulties with it. I cannot attend most classes personally and studying for exams exhausts me quite quickly. I was wondering if…well, if maybe you’d like to study with me sometimes.”

“I’d love to!” Damen exclaimed and beamed at him, for the first time truly happy since they had met each other that day. “That would be awesome, we can totally do that. I could come to your place-“

“Impossible,” Auguste gently interrupted him and smiled apologetically at Damen’s confused expression. “I am sorry, but I cannot bring another Alpha into the house – Laurent and Nicaise would react pretty badly at that. I could come to your place, though, if that’s alright with you.”

“Sure,” Damen easily enough agreed, hesitated a little and then asked, “Laurent is not mated, right?”

“No. He isn’t. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, you know,” said Damen and smiled a little, “I’m just a bit curious.”


	6. Damen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got so many lovely reviews lately, thank you so much for your support! It really means a lot to me.   
> Enjoy!

Things got better after his talk with Auguste, at least that was what Damen told himself. In truth, reality always was a little more complicated than that and Damen knew it well. Nikandros was not amused of their renewed acquaintance, as was the case with Makedon; both talked at length to him that neither he nor Auguste were boys anymore, that they were, in fact, heirs of two of the biggest companies in Akielos and Vere and that there could not be such a thing as true friendship with someone from Vere, an Aurifére on top of that. Damen listened to them and understood their points, even though they did not keep him from meeting Auguste twice a week on a regular basis. Damen usually had a hard time with other Alphas, but there was no competition or jealousy going on between Auguste and him – they both had their companies and accomplishments and the rest of them thought so similarly that it was a joy to talk to each other.

Of course, Damen had not realized the full extension of Auguste’s condition and the things he had told him about it. It was only in the following weeks that Damen noticed Auguste changing the subject, often abruptly and without warning in mid-sentence and looking confused when Damen tried to tell him about what they had talked about. It was only in the following weeks that Damen noticed how Auguste’s body failed him sometimes, even though he had yet to see him in a wheelchair, which he could respect and even understand. It was only in the following weeks that Damen noticed how tired his friend sometimes was and that he tended to nod off every now and then, exhausted by actions Damen did not even think about. 

So he really should not have been surprised to see Laurent instead of his brother in front of his apartment one day. Laurent, dressed in a black turtleneck sweater, dark jeans and boots together with a woolen jacket to protect himself against the wind that tousled not only his blond hair, but everything around him that day, regarded him with cool blue eyes and the absence of a smile when Damen blinked at him.

“Auguste is feeling unwell today, he asked me to say sorry that he couldn’t come,” Laurent said instead of a greeting. “And I’m here to get your notes for him.”

“Oh, sure,” said Damen and scratched the back of his head before he offered, “Would you like to come in so I can explain a few things for you? I’m pretty sure that would make it easier for Auguste to make sense of my notes.”

Laurent visibly hesitated for a moment; Damen was sure that he would decline when Laurent stiffly nodded and followed Damen into his apartment. When Auguste visited him, Damen seldom thought about the appearance of his apartment, but it was a completely different matter with Laurent, who took in the dirty sweater thrown across his couch, the two empty bottles of beer on his couch table, the plates in the sink and surely every speck of dirt on the floor with sharp eyes. Damen felt himself beginning to sweat. He quickly gathered the sweater and dropped it into the laundry bin, grabbed the two empty bottles and flung them into the waste and filled a jug with water. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Water, please,” Laurent said after a moment, sitting down on Damen’s couch with the carefulness of a juggler balancing fourteen balls on the tips of his fingers. It was the politest Laurent had been towards him so far and Damen could not help but smile when their fingertips briefly brushed as he handed him a glass of water. It was stupid, really; Laurent had every right not to like him and Damen had never really considered pursuing him because of those reasons, but he could not help but feel a little curious. Nikandros used to say that cool blonds and blondes were simply his type.

“Alright,” Damen said and sat down next to Laurent, even though he tried to maintain as much space as possible; there was nothing he wanted less than to spook Laurent, who probably was not all that thrilled to be in the flat of an Alpha who did not even belong to family. Taking a deep breath, Damen started to ruffle through his notes and quickly discovered that he had to scoot closer to Laurent so that Auguste’s brother could look at the pages as well. Apparently Laurent had come to the same conclusion because he eyed Damen for a moment with a gaze that gave nothing away, then slowly, very slowly scooted closer, just enough to get the job done. 

It was the closest he had ever seen Laurent and Damen could not help but look at his profile, the elegant slope of his nose, his long, light eyelashes, the gentle curve of his lips. He felt ashamed of himself for looking at Laurent, so he forced himself to look down at the notes again. “Alright, well, let’s look this over, shall we?”

Laurent, as it turned out, was not only capable of understanding matters of law, but also quickly grasped the basics of economic studies. He listened with rapt attention and only opened his mouth to ask some questions, quickly and to the point. Damen found that he liked this side of Laurent; he could see the scholar Auguste liked to talk about so much about. Laurent was more relaxed when he could talk and listen about matters he understood as well and it was refreshing to see him a little less tense. 

“Alright, I think I got it now,” Laurent said, gathered Damen’s notes into his arms and got up from the couch. His glass of water was still untouched. For a moment they stared at each other before Laurent, very awkwardly, added, “Thank you. Auguste – relies on this.”

Damen blinked. Then he swallowed every remark he could have made about Laurent saying thank you and instead merely replied, “You’re welcome. He’s a friend of mine, you know.”

“I am beginning to understand that,” Laurent said after a pause; he still looked a little awkward, which Damen probably should not have found a little charming, but it was the second crack in Laurent’s perfectly composed, cool demeanor he had ever witnessed. “Well, I think Auguste will probably be able to join you again next Friday.”

“I thought you would have stronger dislike for that fact.”

Laurent said nothing. Instead, his gaze slowly traveled over the walls of Damen’s apartment, drinking in the sights once more, before they settled on Damen’s face and he said very carefully, “Auguste values his time with you. I would never object to something that makes him smile, even though my personal thoughts on certain matters may vary from his.”

“Certain matters in this case being me?”

Laurent did not look away from him. He had an unflinching stare that would have made others uneasy, but Damen bore it with the patience of someone having been used to Jokaste’s sharp tongue for a quite long time. Finally, Laurent’s lips twisted into something close to a smile and he said, “If you think that this is what I meant, then something about it is quite likely true.”

Damen could not help but laugh at that. It was a brief glimpse of the man Auguste liked to talk about: Quick-minded, slightly mischievous and silver-tongued and Damen liked it. Laurent did not smile, but he did not look away either. Instead, he slung his bag over his shoulder and said, “I have to go.”

“I could drive you,” Damen offered impulsively. He was certain of Laurent’s decline, which caused him to at least feel no disappointment when Laurent shook his head. There was slight surprise, however, when Laurent said, “I have to go get Nicaise from school, so I’m here with my own car.”

“Do you always pick him up after school?”

“Usually, yes,” said Laurent after a slight pause, “Auguste cannot drive anymore, so I’m doing it.”

“You’re a very good brother,” Damen said with all the honesty he felt. It was apparent that Laurent had not expected him to say that because he looked at him with startled eyes that made his face a little softer than usual, only for the slighted fraction of a second before he carefully schooled his facial features into neutrality again.

“He deserves me at my best, so I am doing my best,” said Laurent and went to the door, nodding at him while doing so. “Goodbye.”

“See you!” Damen called behind him and watched him go, feeling slightly giddy with something he could not name. 

Auguste was there the next time, but it was not the last time he could not make it to their meetings, not only because of health issues, but also because of his function as CEO of his family’s company. In a way, Damen admired him more than anyone else, but he also slowly opened his eyes for the relentless support Auguste had: Not only his physician and bodyguard, but also Laurent, who, as Damen slowly came to understand, did everything to clean Auguste’s way in a quiet, efficient way. In between remarks by Auguste and rare ones by Laurent himself, Damen filled in that it was Laurent who took care of the staff and ran their schedules, who made Auguste’s appointments and took care that he was able to at least make it to most of them, who brought Nicaise into school and picked him up again and who came by Damen’s place for notes a few times more. All the while Laurent excelled at his courses and was often seen reading or studying in the library and on the campus. Damen sometimes wondered whether he ever slept.

It was admirable, truly. There were not many Omegas Damen knew of that were so efficient and highly organized. Thinking so probably was discriminating, but Laurent’s efforts were laced with determination usually found in Alphas and Betas. He never said anything about it, however, which probably was due to the fact that he still was quite reserved towards Damen, even though his behavior had considerably softened. Slowly Damen began to suspect that the way to Laurent’s heart was leading through Auguste, which probably was not that surprising at all – after all, Auguste was Laurent’s warden and it was obvious that he was very dear to him. For a while Damen had suspected that Laurent having no mate had something to do with Auguste’s protective side since he still could not understand why someone as beautiful and clever – and obviously capable of care and love for others, if his way with Auguste was any indication – was not yet bonded, but by now he had dismissed that idea almost entirely. It had nothing to do with Auguste; it was Laurent who was known for his disinterest in romantic involvement with someone else.

“He’s a cast-iron bitch,” Nikandros told him and shrugged; his words were met with approving murmur from Makedon, who was known for his dislike for everything Veretian, up to and especially for the Aurifère family. Makedon had been an officer directly underneath Damen’s command during the war and an old friend of his father on top of that. Even though he had some quite old-fashioned views, Damen considered them good friends and liked to celebrate every rare occasion where Makedon was in town with him, Nikandros and sometimes a few other soldiers. At those occasions they liked to go into the “Red Sun”, a bar most famous for its wide variety of local and international beer brands that was located in a district of the town that was packed with bars, restaurants, nightclubs and other establishments people usually frequented to enjoy themselves. A few hours into the evening, Damen could not recall how they had begun to talk about Laurent and his brother in the first place, but he also felt no inclination to drop the topic.

“A nest of snakes,” Makedon liked to say, as he now did, shaking his head the entire time. “I knew their father and I knew their uncle – the former a spineless bastard, the latter not a snake, but a basilisk. It’s good that one of them’s dead and the other one in prison, but the next generation’s not worth much more, the younger brother’s a viper that should be put into place and the older one’s not even a real Alpha anym-“

“That’s enough,” said Damen sharply, rising in his seat where he had comfortably sprawled in the pub. “I will not tolerate any more of this, are we clear? I respect Auguste as my equal and we see eye to eye in many aspects – wait a second, did you say that Laurent’s and Auguste’s uncle is in prison?”

“Aye, that he is,” Makedon confirmed and took a sip from his beer. “Apparently because of tax fraud, but rumor has it that there has been more to it. Never really got confirmed, though, but everything about it was quite hush-hush and the entire deal was over pretty fast. If you ask me, I’ve always found that suspicious, but then again nothing surprises me when it comes to Veretians.”

Damen realized that Auguste had never told him this, which of course was absolutely his right, but still he felt a little miffed. It was only after a slight pause that he asked, “How long ago was that?”

“A year, perhaps one and a half,” replied Makedon with a shrug and downed the rest of his beer. “Doesn’t matter much, if you ask me. It’s over and done with and you can say what you want, but Auguste Aurifère is rightful heir of his company and if his uncle really committed tax fraud, it was not only his right, but his outright duty to get him imprisoned.”

“Huh,” said Damen and lost himself in thoughts until he glanced at his watch and noticed how late it was, late enough for him to get up and declare his farewell to his friends. It was a pleasantly warm night and Damen felt an equally pleasant buzz, far away from being drunk, but at the enjoyable edge of being tipsy. Whistling a little tune he walked through the street with his hands in his pockets, passing other people in an equally happy mood. The entire night was bristling in some sort of positive energy and he found himself drinking it in with deep breaths when his eye caught something that made him stop dead in his tracks.

It was Laurent.

His hair, usually braided so carefully and artfully in various styles, fell open and loose around his face. He was dressed a little more casual than usual as well, clad in only a simple dark v-neck shirt, a white scarf slung around his throat, and dark pants together with polished black shoes. He was bent over a girl with a dark bob that looked very drunk and very uncooperative in matters of getting up from the floor. It was sheer instinct that drove Damen over to them, but when he got closer, the most delicious scent he had ever smelled filled his entire nose, causing his eyes to go wide. There was no reason for him to believe that it was Laurent – Laurent had so far always suppressed any track of scent he could have had and smelled of basically nothing but fresh soap, which only left the girl. He recalled having seen her once or twice at a party and it took him a while to remember that her name was Vannes or something like that. He stepped closer, hesitant and hazy in the sweet, almost unnoticeable trail of scent.

Laurent looked at him with genuine surprise before he guarded his expression again and simply said, “Ah. This is quite fortunate, actually. You can use your brutish force and help me get Vannes into a cab – she’s had a few drinks too much.”

"Use your brutish force," echoed Damen. Laurent's lips quirked up a little.

“Not true,” the girl slurred, barely lifting her head. Laurent absently patted her hair like a master might pat his favorite dog, then looked back at Damen and said, “She’s unfortunately too heavy for me to carry. Ah, God. This is why I am usually not going out with her.”

“Part of the reason, at most - if at all, you're just a spoilsport,” Vannes groaned and held her head. Laurent snorted. 

“Pick her up,” said he to Damen, who obeyed without thinking twice. When he lifted her up into his arms, he discovered that Vannes had a rather ordinary smell, not unpleasant, but very flowery and sweet in a typically Omega way that did not much for him. This also meant that there was only one other person that could have a scent so fresh, so nice, so very attractive that it caused Damen’s head to spin slightly. He knew from Auguste that Laurent was an Omega too. Damen looked him, looked and thought and looked some more.

When he noticed Damen staring at him, Laurent lifted an eyebrow and said, “Well? Carry her and follow me. Over there’s an open road, I’ll try to hail a cab from there.”

“Laurent,” said Damen very carefully as he walked after him, the almost unconscious Vannes in his arms, “Are you...I’m sorry for being so invading of your privacy, but are you by chance, well, close to heat? I can smell you.”

In front of him, Laurent stiffened ever so slightly before he said rather curtly, “No. This is absurd. I mask my scent and I am on suppressants.”

Damen said nothing until they had Vannes in a cab, but when Laurent followed her, Damen climbed into the car as well, which earned him a long, hard stare from Laurent. He tried not to wither under it too much, cleared his throat and said very carefully, “I would like to make sure that we get your friends safely home – and you as well.”

“I can take care of myself,” said Laurent without any real hardness in his voice.

“I know that,” replied Damen and met Laurent’s gaze evenly, “It’s more for me than for you, really. I’d just like to know you’re safe and sound at home, that’s all. I promise I won’t even get out of the car, just make sure that you get out at your home. Okay?”

Laurent looked at him for a long, long moment. There was something unreadable in his eyes, his entire face, but then he slowly exhaled. “Well, I guess it cannot hurt,” he said almost absent-mindedly, still looking at Damen. It was impossible to know what he was thinking about; with Laurent, it could have been almost everything. However, the most important thing was that he looked calm and self-assured during his answer, which in turn caused Damen to relax.

They got Vannes into her apartment, or rather: Damen was carrying her into it while Laurent fished the keys out of her jacket, let them in and made sure that Damen put her onto the bed where she immediately pressed her face into one of the pillows and did not move again. Laurent made sure that she was still breathing and then Damen watched him carefully place a glass of water and some painkillers on the night table. 

“Let’s go,” said Laurent and Damen followed him blindly, eyes trained on Laurent’s graceful back and the loose tips of his hair glinting in the streetlights they passed. He hailed a cab for them and found himself looking at Laurent as if for approval, telling himself not to be disappointed when he found none. It was ridiculous, really, but Damen told himself that it was because he was not completely sober and had his nose still full of Laurent’s surprising scent. He looked at him while they were in the cab, listened to Laurent’s cool voice giving his address to the driver, watched the light from outside pass over Laurent’s face, shadows and light flitting over his delicate features like ghosts. He wanted to reach out and take one of Laurent’s elegant hands into his own. He wanted to scoot closer to make sure that Laurent felt warm enough. He wanted to wrap an arm around him and pull him close, press his nose into the crook of his neck and inhale deeply –

“We’re here,” said Laurent.

Damen blinked and looked out of the window. It was the first time since the accident that he had come here and the house was still as magnificent as it was in his memory, but nothing could hold his interest longer than Laurent, who watched him very carefully.

“Well then,” Damen said, trying to sound as normal and casual as he could even though he could still smell Laurent and it was _maddening_. “Good night, Laurent.”

“Good night, Damen,” replied Laurent after a long pause. He watched Damen for a moment longer before he got out of the car, passed the large iron gates and walked up the path that led to the house. Damen looked at his figure before he could not see him anymore, then told the driver his address, sunk into the cushions of the cab’s seat and closed his eyes.

There was a possible chance that he had a problem.


	7. Laurent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly cannot BELIEVE how many wonderful reviews I get, thank you so much!!! <3   
> Slight warning for this chapter: Laurent goes in heat at the worst moment and someone is a jerk (not Damen, though). There is a very brief implication of sexual abuse as well.  
> Enjoy! :)

“Something’s bothering you,” said Auguste, “and it’s not your upcoming exams.”

Laurent looked up from his favorite spot for studying, the sturdy desk in Auguste’s office. He was not much in favor of studying on his bed or the couch, which was what Auguste preferred; Laurent needed the feeling of serious business he only felt when he was sitting at a desk, his materials for studying perfectly laid out in front of him. His brother was lounging on the soft, red couch in his office and smiled when he caught Laurent’s gaze, so Laurent smiled back and said, “It’s nothing.”

It really was nothing. It was ignorable, as were many things to him that other people would have found on the top of their priority list, at least that was what he tried to tell himself. The fact was that he was worried. Since Damen had accompanied him home two days ago, Laurent had spent twice the amount of his usual time to make sure that he scrubbed himself completely clean every morning and evening, took a little more of the Veretian perfume that helped him mask his scent and checked his intake of suppressants. There was no chance that Damen could have told the truth and yet he could neither forget his remark about Laurent’s scent nor the wide-blown eyes Damen had probably not even been aware of having. Laurent found himself gritting his teeth.

“Laurent,” said Auguste and his voice was uncharacteristically serious. Laurent watched him push himself up into a sitting position and take a deep breath before he continued, “I didn’t want to mention it since I respect your privacy, but to be honest with you, I was wondering – well, is there someone you’re seeing?”

Laurent stared at his brother. “Why would you think that?”

“Well,” Auguste said and reddened a little, “you don’t mask your scent. So I was wondering –“

“I do mask my scent,” Laurent interrupted him and found himself pushing his seat away from the desk to get up. “I am doing the exact same things I am always doing and I am not seeing anyone. How well do you smell me?”

There was a slight pause. Then Auguste said, very carefully, “Quite well. That’s why I was wondering. I thought that maybe you had decided to spend your upcoming heat with someone and that you’re preparing for it. If you’re telling me that this is not the case, though, then…you should probably talk to Paschal.”

A part of Laurent registered very calmly the rising panic he felt, the quickening of his heartbeat, the increased pulse in the veins of his neck, the trembling in his hands. The last one he tried to suppress by clenching his hands into tight fists, but Auguste had noticed it anyway and frowned before he attempted to get up from the couch. 

“Lulu, come here,” he said when it became evident that he would not succeed and Laurent, numb and on the verge of a panic attack, did as he was told without a single word, fleeing into his brother’s outstretched arms. The contact was comforting; he felt himself breathe a little easier the longer his face was pressed against Auguste’s chest. “It’s fine, it’s just a hint of scent for most people. To be honest, it’s only noticeable because usually you don’t have a scent at all. It doesn’t particularly smell of heat.”

Laurent said nothing, mostly because his throat was so tight that he had the feeling of never being able to speak again.

“Would you like to stay at home for the next few days, just to make sure?” asked Auguste, who had clearly noted Laurent’s distress because his grip around him tightened ever so slightly and he placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. 

Laurent thought about it before he shook his head. “I’ve got too many classes I don’t want to miss. Besides – if it’s not that strong, I’ll probably be fine.”

“Probably,” agreed Auguste, but he sounded more worried than Laurent liked.

 

It should not have been a surprise that Damen started following him around on campus, accompanying him from classroom to classroom while he chatted amicably, not bothered by Laurent’s curt or non-existent responses. He did not try to touch him, either, and at no point did he make a remark about Laurent’s scent. In some way that was nice, even though Laurent could not be sure that it was not just his frazzled nerves that caused him to believe so. 

“Did you talk to Auguste?” he could not help but ask when Damen walked with him to his last course of the day.

Damen turned crimson-red and looked at his feet. “Maybe,” he said, then admitted, “Alright, yes. He just…he asked me if I would mind keeping an eye on you. He was worried, you know, so I said yes. Do you really mind? I’m trying not to…well, to pester you, I’m just making sure that-“

“But it does bother me,” interrupted Laurent and felt the frown on his own face. “I didn’t ask you to keep an eye on me and I don’t need your constant vigilance. I can take care of my own.”

“I know! I just…” Laurent silently stared at him. Damen looked at his face, then down at his feet and took a deep breath. “I just…you smell really nice, Laurent. I don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all. People around here can be morons, you know.”

“I know. One of them is standing right in front of me,” said Laurent. Damen had the audacity to look hurt, but he did not walk away, instead watching him with sorrowful dark eyes like a kicked puppy. It was amazing, really, Laurent reflected, how his intense disliking of Damen had become exasperation that was almost fond in the last few weeks. Maybe it was how fond Auguste was of the other Alpha, maybe it was because Damen was, surprisingly enough, actually a quite decent person, which was why Laurent believed him when Damen said that he only had his best intentions in mind. It did not make the entire deal less annoying, but at least it was something. “Look. This is my last class for today. You don’t have to hang around until I’m done to make sure that I get back home afterwards, that’s just ridiculous. Go home.”

Damen bit his lip. “I don’t mind waiting,” he said, but it sounded hesitant. Laurent found himself rolling his eyes and ignored the part of him that was awkwardly touched. He had never been truly courted so far, but if his life had been a movie, Damen’s willingness to be his personal bodyguard at the price of his free time would probably be a part of it.

“Go home,” he repeated again and cocked his head. “Really, I’m fine. You made your point and looked all buff and beefy the entire day, now you can go home and lift some weights.”

The corners of Damen’s lips turned up and instead of being insulted he looked positively delighted. It caused Laurent to consider whether Damen was a little masochistic or not when Damen finally relented and said, “Alright. If you’re absolutely sure-“

“I am,” Laurent confirmed and quickly added, “And you don’t need to follow me around tomorrow as well. I’m fine.”

“Alright,” Damen repeated and still looked a little unsure, but he nodded at Laurent. “See you, then. Have fun in your lesson.”

“Thank you,” said Laurent and watched him go, his broad shoulders disappearing in the crowd, before he entered the room. His lesson passed by in the usual haze that accompanied fast note-taking and afterwards he drove home just fine. 

The evening was spent with Auguste and Nicaise, the latter of them watching him a little more strangely than usual, but Laurent ignored it. When Auguste declared his tiredness, Laurent wished him a good night, ensured that Nicaise went to bed and actually slept instead of playing endlessly on his phone in the dark and finally retired to his own bedroom. It was warm, so he undressed, put his clothes into the laundry bin and chose a quite light nightshirt that was very soft on his skin. There was something wrong with his bedding, so he spent quite a bit of time rearranging the pillows and blankets, adding a few more pillows from the couch in his room before he was satisfied and climbed in.

It only occurred to him that he was nesting when he was already half-asleep.

 

Damen was not around the next day or at least he did not see him, which was just as well; Laurent was not sure that he would have been able to deal with him. He felt a headache coming on, maybe a fever as well because his skin felt a little too tight and he was less concentrated than he usually was, walking through the day as if in a dream. People seemed to behave quite strangely as well since he found himself outside of his usual bubble when someone tried talking to him, then another. It was annoying at best and Laurent seriously considered murder as he walked over the campus towards his next course during the late afternoon when he felt such a strong wave of pain in his stomach that he nearly doubled over. Two of the books he had carried slipped from his grip and fell into the grass; gasping for air and trying to control himself, he found himself kneeling down to gather them up again. 

He stiffened when he felt wetness spread between his legs.

There was only one possible explanation and it was not one he particularly liked. The small part of Laurent’s brain that was still capable of reasonable thinking told him to get away from the campus as quickly as possible. The rest of him was busy trying to suck enough air into his lungs and resist the urge to get out of his too tight, too scratchy clothes. Part of it, the reasonable part of his brain told him, was a panic attack that had not much to do with the heat itself. Laurent trembled, took several deep breaths and tried to ignore the sticky feeling between his legs while he attempted to get up from the ground. 

“Well, well,” said a voice above him, “What do we have here? Looks like an Omega in heat. I love those, even though I would’ve preferred a chick.”

Laurent managed to look up, but the face that stared down at him – sharp angles, blue eyes, crooked nose – was completely unknown to him, so he just said, “Leave me alone.”  
“I don’t think so,” the unknown guy replied and crouched down beside him. “I think I’m gonna take you home and push you on my knot. I know you – you’re that Aurifére guy. Didya know that half the school wasn’t even sure what your dynamic is? But me, I know an Omega when I see one. You’re one of those stuck-up ones, the ones that need a good dicking to warm up.”

“Even if that was the truth, it would certainly not be your dick - I don't like trash inside of me,” said Laurent icily and yelped when the Alpha yanked him upwards by his wrist. For a moment, there was nothing but blind panic and too-short breaths before he realized that somehow, he was free of the guy’s grip again. Blinking with watery eyes, it took him a moment to process that somehow, from some godforsaken corner of the campus, Damen had appeared like a deus-ex-machina and was _furious_ , growling at the other Alpha and shielding Laurent with his massive body, which made it quite difficult for Laurent to see anything but his broad shoulders.

And by God, Damen smelled wonderful. 

As he watched Damen punching the other Alpha without any mercy and another loud growl until the guy turned on his heels and fled like the coward he was, Laurent stared at Damen’s back and wondered how he could have missed how nice Damen smelled. He almost did not realize that Damen had turned back towards him, only now he was staring at Damen’s very nice chest and made a step towards him, leaking all the way, his hard nipples chafing against his shirt.

“Laurent, no,” said Damen and his voice was very gentle, which was the only thing that Laurent registered. Damen was very nice; he was gentle and polite and would be a powerful mate. Laurent took another step towards him and sunk to his knees, hands flying to Damen’s pants without a second thought. 

“Good lord, what- shit,” said Damen, which was not very much what Laurent wanted to hear, but he probably could work with it – only that he found himself lifted, one muscled arm around his shoulders, the second one in the hollow of his knees. The good part of this was that he was able to press his face into Damen’s very nice chest, causing Damen to groan in a way that made him even wetter. The not so good part was that Damen said very hoarsely, “I am going to take you home now, alright?”

“Hurts,” murmured Laurent, which was very much true: the more the heat inside him built and built, the more it hurt, leaving him panting in an entirely undignified way.

“I’m so sorry,” Damen answered and sounded quite genuine about it, especially since he gently squeezed Laurent’s shoulders a little while he carried him. Laurent did not know where they were going; the only thing he knew was that his body was in pain, that he was wet and that everything could be solved by getting fucked – and he knew other things that caused him to cling to Damen in sheer panic, nails digging into his arms and teeth tightly clenched together. The part that was still him and not consumed by the entirely physical needs of his body knew that he did not want anyone inside him and caused him to tense in Damen’s arms, only to be knocked out of existence by the next wave of heat. 

“God, I’m so sorry, Laurent,” Damen murmured while he climbed onto the back seat of a car – a cab probably, the rational part of Laurent’s brain thought – and still held him tightly, stroking his hair in a gesture that caused Laurent to whimper. Writhing on his lap, Laurent could feel how hard Damen was in his jeans, but when he tried to open his jeans with trembling fingers, Damen snatched his fingers away and gently held his hand in his own. “You’ll be home soon and then you can climb into your nest. I’m sure you have a lovely nest, just as lovely as you. I wish I could have helped you make it. Jesus – stop squirming around, Laurent, please.”

Laurent whimpered again and spread his legs, pressing his knees left and right against Damen’s hips and grinding them together, gasping under the pressure against his wetness and his hardened cock. Damen groaned and held him even tighter, his voice delivering a steady stream of words in Akielon while he stroked his hair. 

Slowly but surely Laurent lost all focus; he did not remember getting out of the car nor entering the house; Damen had to have carried him in that steady way of his, past Auguste and past Nicaise, right into Laurent’s bedroom, carefully putting him into the center of his nest. Laurent almost cried under the friction of clothes on his skin, biting his lips and trying to gain control over himself again, but it was almost impossible. If Damen had wanted to throw him on his stomach and fuck him now, he would have let him without much resistance - and it was a frightening though, really, to be so much at mercy of his own body.

But Damen did nothing of the sort. Instead, he carefully helped him out of his clothes, brought a pitcher of water and placed it next to the bed together with a few bars of chocolate and a sandwich – and then he sat down at the edge of the bed and stroked Laurent’s hair again.

“I’ll go now,” he said very softly and Laurent turned towards him, not spending a single thought at his own nakedness, the way he had to look. “You’ll be fine, Laurent. Just – you know. Having as many orgasms as possible helps. And remember to drink enough or you’ll feel dizzy. Alright?”

“Fuck me,” Laurent said, closing his eyes underneath Damen’s hand, his entire body trembling with pain and frenzied lust. “I’d let you. Maybe it wouldn’t even be that bad. Maybe I wouldn’t even bleed, with you.”

“My god, Laurent,” Damen said after a very long pause, his hand still in Laurent’s hair, but now it was trembling as well. “No, I won’t do that. We are not courting and if you were any more conscious, you wouldn’t want me to. You’re safe here, you’ll be fine.” There was a gentle kiss on his forehead. Laurent closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“You’ll be fine,” Damen repeated before he left. Laurent listened to the raging war in his body, pushed a hand between his legs to feel his wetness and doubted that he would ever be fine again.


	8. Auguste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You people are simply the best, thank you so so so much for all your support! <3 And sorry for the delay, I've got a new job and was a little busy the last few days.   
> But now, enjoy! :)

After the meeting, Auguste was tempted to simply walk home – if only to prove anyone watching that he was capable of doing so. 

The meeting had left him in a foul mood and he tried to get rid of it during the drive back home. Jord, apparently sensing that he did not wish to talk, said nothing and just drove; maybe he was by now already used to Auguste showing a bit of temper after every encounter with his council. They were powerful old Alphas, which meant that they needed an even more powerful Alpha to keep them in check - unfortunately, Auguste had lost that status in their eyes. It did not help that they thought him too weak to properly handle Laurent and Nicaise, forcing the former into useful marriage and forbidding the latter from showing such a foul mouth. Auguste despised their outdated way of thinking, despised their constant attempts of getting him out of the way because he, in their eyes, was a cripple better suited as a Beta, by no means fit as CEO. And yet - they had played a vital part in getting his uncle into prison and allowing them in a position of power had been part of the deal. As irritating as it was, Auguste was still a man of honor and kept his word.   
Auguste took some painkillers and closed his eyes. It did not help that he knew what would await him at home - Laurent, who he could not help in his pain, and Nicaise, who was completely out of control. It was suffocating. He did not know if he would be able to handle it properly. 

He did not notice that he had fallen asleep until Jord gently shook him awake and told him that they had arrived. With a heavy sigh, he got out of the car and immediately found himself eye to eye with Damen. This was nothing he had not anticipated. Damen had been here the day before as well and he looked very much as stressed and pained as he had yesterday. He still wore the same shirt and his hair was so ruffled that it could probably be seen as an excellent mirror of Damen’s momentary emotional state. His hands were full of Tupperware, undoubtedly filled to the brim with food. 

"I brought something for Laurent," he said. Auguste smiled gently. How he missed this, he reflected: having someone to take care of, to feed, to love, to protect as a lover - and yet the sad irony was that Damen had not been accepted as a mate yet, and probably never would, at least not by the Omega he had apparently chosen. Their eyes met in a despair that was mutual and yet entirely different.

"You know I can't let you into the house," Auguste said, eyeing the boxes in Damen's hand. "Even though I appreciate your effort. I am going to make sure that he gets a hand on it."

"That's all I want," Damen said, then he hesitated and cleared his throat. "Is he...alright?"

Auguste pondered about this for a moment. Was Laurent alright? The answer to this was that no, he was not, neither in a general nor in a circumstantial way, but he did not want to increase Damen's distress, so he sighed. "It could be worse, all things considered. Paschal has given him some painkillers and so he is in a bit of a haze."

Damen made a distressed noise and sat down in the grass, placing the boxes full food next to him and putting his head in his hands. He had been sleeping in the garden, Auguste noted with a look at the loading space of Damen's red pick-up truck where he could see a rumpled blanket and a jacket balled up to something resembling a pillow. "Did you even leave since yesterday? How did you get the food?"

"Had it delivered," Damen mumbled between his fingers and hunched his shoulders, making another distressed noise. "This is so stupid. I don't know why this is happening. We're not even courting. He doesn't even like me."

"He had a crush on you when he was a kid, before the accident," said Auguste and smiled when Damen's face jerked up. "And he has...improved his opinion about you a lot in the last weeks. It's not really your fault that he has a hard time understanding and accepting what he is, what he wants and that he might like a mate who takes care of him."

"I want to serve him," confirmed Damen and sighed deeply. He was such an image of misery that Auguste could not help but feel utterly sorry for him. "He's surely suffering. Why doesn't he want me to help him through it if it isn't a matter of sympathy? I think that you're wrong. I think that he still hasn't forgiven me for hurting you, that he will never like me, that I am stupid for these instincts." Damen took a deep breath and visibly shuddered. Auguste found himself wishing for a cigarette for the first time in a very long while. He had last smoked before the accident and that had been a lifetime ago, or so it seemed.

"Laurent," said Auguste very carefully after a pause, "Laurent has been quite hurt while I was in a coma. This is all I will say on that matter since it is not my place to tell you, but trust me in this: the way he behaves in that matter is not your fault." He was quite aware that Damen looked at him now and took a deep breath. "I think he will give you high credit for taking him home instead of knotting him right then and there - and I give you credit for that as well. You took care of him when I couldn't. If there is any chance that Laurent considers allowing you to court him, you have my blessing. I cannot allow you into the house without Nicaise’s and Laurent’s consent, but you can stay here in the garden. I will make sure that food is brought to you, with some more bedding. Is that okay?"

"Thank you," Damen said and bowed his head. "I really appreciate that." 

"What? He is allowed to stay here?" 

Both Damen and Auguste looked up at the indignant voice coming from the house. Nicaise stood in the entrance door, his hands on his slender hips. He wore nothing but tight, ripped jeans hot pants and a pink sleeveless shirt made from a very thin fabric. Rubies were dangling from his ear, rubies cast in gold; Auguste recognized the jewelry immediately and scowled. It had not been him who had gifted Nicaise with jewelry as expansive as this and Nicaise, well aware of his distaste for him displaying that blasted jewelry so openly, was surely not wearing it without a reason. It was a provocation and he could not even tell where it had come from so suddenly, but then again, Nicaise had not taken lightly to Laurent’s heat.

"Yes, he will stay," replied Auguste. Nicaise scrunched up his pretty face in a look of distaste that was so vicious that it looked completely out of place on his angelic face. 

"Are you allowing him to fuck Laurent?" he asked, tilting his head in a way that caused Auguste to narrow his eyes. Damen looked utterly baffled and looked back and forth between them like a spectator at a tennis match. "Are you gonna let him breed Laurent? Carry his children? I mean I also think that Laurent likely will never find someone wanting to mate him again, but that's a bit harsh, pushing him towards a kinslayer." 

"Damen is no kinslayer, since I am very much alive and it was an accident on top of that," said Auguste with all the patience he had acquired during the year of watching over Laurent and Nicaise, "and I am not pushing anyone anywhere. I am only allowing Damen to stay in our garden, so he won't come into the house." 

Nicaise openly sneered at him. It was not the first time, but the first time he did it in front of a stranger and the first time it was so utterly vicious. "And what keeps him from getting in if he wants? You? He could climb in and fuck Laurent in the middle of the night and you would never know. Or he could come and fuck me. Maybe I'd let him - I'm almost fifteen now. I am a better fuck than Laurent anyway, even though everyone is always so god damn obsessed with Laurent. But that’s not the point.” 

"That's enough," Auguste found himself saying in a raised voice while Damen was struck speechless, staring at Nicaise with the look of someone who was experiencing something that was completely out of his range of experience. "Damen is a man of honor and we have guards here-"

"The Regent never needed guards," said Nicaise. There was venom dripping from his lips, shining in his eyes, the casual way he held himself, displaying, always displaying. He took a deep breath and Auguste readied himself for the blow, but it still drained his face of all colors when it came. "The Regent always made sure that there was no other Alpha trying to interfere, and nobody would ever dare to interfere with him. He didn’t need help from others to get through the day. He was-"

"A monster," Auguste snapped roughly. Something in his voice or face must have let Nicaise realize that he had gone too far this time because his blue eyes slightly widened und he took a hesitant step back. Auguste was having none of it, tired and pained and equally vicious to Nicaise in his own way. "Come here. _At once_."

Nicaise hesitated, eyes darting backwards, but he was too proud and too intimidated at the same time to not follow Auguste’s orders, so he shuffled forward with small steps. Damen watched the entire deal without moving; from the corners of his eye, Auguste could see him carefully keep his breath light and inaudible, shrinking into the background as much as possible. The closer Nicaise came, the more Auguste could see that he had put on some make-up, his eyelashes impossibly black and his eyelids dusted with gold; it was an unsettling sight and only enraged Auguste even more. As soon as Nicaise had reached him, Auguste grabbed his neck as firmly as he could and held him there. Nicaise's breathing sped up, but he closed his eyes and bowed his head, yipping like a startled fox cub when Auguste grabbed him a little tighter. 

"I am in command here," Auguste told him and could hear the ragged roughness of his own voice. "This is my place, and I am your warden and you will do as I say. Trust me that I have only the best intentions for you and Laurent and that I know what I'm doing. I am not my uncle and I will never be -and I pray for the day where you will be thankful for that instead of trying to provoke me into becoming him."

Nicaise said nothing, but he had stopped squirming around. His facial expression was petulant and startled at the same time and Auguste told himself to remain firm, which was not very difficult since he was filled with burning anger. “I know that you have been told that you can have everything and be everything, but for some matters you are too young, Nicí, and the limits I set you have their reasons. Now go and wash your face and give me that earring.”

“It’s mine,” mumbled Nicaise, his chin stubbornly lifted, even though he did not look Auguste in the eye. Instead, he cast his gaze downwards, shuffling his feet. Damen coughed.   
“I don’t fucking care,” replied Auguste and both Nicaise and Damen started at the vulgarity coming from his mouth; it would have been laughable, really, had Auguste been in any mood to laugh. “That was an order. Give it to me and then go wash your face and put on some other clothes. I think I might have been too lenient with you.”

He only let go of Nicaises neck when the boy nodded, his face utterly sullen as he placed the ruby earring into Auguste’s outstretched hand and shuffled off into the house without another word. Auguste watched him go until he had disappeared into the house and then he closed his eyes. Suddenly he felt very exhausted, his limbs too heavy to carry him any further. He did not even notice that he was swaying until Damen hurried to support him and helped him sit down at the house’s stairs. Jord was there in two minutes, ensuring his safety and bringing him a glass of water that he downed with a pill.

“Maybe I was too harsh,” he said after the ringing in his ears had stopped. A weakness had come over him; instead of exploiting it and storming off into the house, Damen sat down next to him and rubbed his back.

“I don’t think so,” he answered after a while and Auguste appreciated his honesty. “He had it coming, if you ask me. It’s alright, really. What he said wasn’t very nice.”

“He’s a child,” said Auguste and rubbed his temples with trembling fingers. “And he’s had a hard time too, you know. I shouldn’t have gripped his neck, probably. I just wish…”

He did not have to say out loud what he wished for. There was a good chance that Damen understood him well enough as it was, for he said nothing as well and just continued rubbing his back. For a moment they just sat there in silence and it was comforting in a way not much else was, at least until Damen sighed.

“I hope I’m not getting on your nerves too much,” he said and turned his head towards Auguste. “I know that this is more than inconvenient. I just…I have the feeling that I might…die if I’m not here, even though I can’t do much. It drives me crazy.” He sighed again. “It’s so stupid. I’m really sorry, you know.”

“And I told you that there is nothing you should be sorry for,” replied Auguste und lightly punched his shoulder. “You didn’t overstep the boundaries I set you and I allowed you to be in our garden. I understand stupid instincts, everyone does.”

“Thank you,” said Damen and smiled a little. Then, after a slight pause, he asked, “Why did he call your uncle the Regent?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Auguste answered with a dismissive gesture of his hand, even though it was everything, everything that was wrong. “He just used to call himself that. Other people did as well, since I was in a coma and my uncle would have taken over the company had I not woken up again. Don’t think about it too much – I try not to do that as well.”


	9. Laurent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back with a new chapter - yay! :D Thank you all soooo much for your support, I really appreciate it <3  
> Enjoy :D

Laurent’s first real heat lasted four and a half days, which meant that for four days, he could not even get out of bed for a longer period of time. When the haze had cleared a little more, he could not for the life of him remember how he had got to the toilet or had eaten and drunk or done anything else. It had probably been Paschal who had helped him through, but he could not even say for sure that it had not been just a figment of his imagination. As long as the heat had lasted, there had been nothing but the endless, sheer want and need as much as internal dialogues with himself to make what he needed okay, to make him believe that he could like it. He had not succeeded much in persuading himself, so he had always just used his fingers when everything had become too unbearable, sliding them into the slickness, the warmth, a part of him he usually well ignored. 

On the fifth day, the heat had almost subsided. When Laurent woke up somewhere around midday, he felt disoriented and dehydrated, but the need for food was more important than the need for a fucking and so he knew that the worst had to be over, at least for now. With a sigh, he sat up in bed and looked around him.

The sheets were torn and dirty from sweat, tears and cum. There was a little blood on them too; looking down on himself, Laurent noticed that he had bitten himself and that he apparently had started to gnaw on the skin around his fingernails. Next to the bed, he found several boxes full of food, most of it cold by now, but after a moment he found a box with pancakes that were at least a little lukewarm, so he ate them hungrily and without much thought.

At this point, Laurent still felt a little hot and quite sensible, but he was well enough to think of a shower, so he carefully climbed out of the bed and made his way into the bathroom with slow, uneven steps. The shower was a gift; he took his time and showered very slowly, which was quite alright since he had no sense of time at the moment. He made sure to get rid of the slick that covered his cunt, his cock and the insides of his legs before he carefully freed himself of the sweat on his skin as well. His nipples were sensible enough that he winced when he touched them; other parts of him were swollen and reddened as well and so after having gotten out of the shower, he decided to put on a long tunic that covered him from neck to ankles. 

Paschal was waiting for him when he shuffled back into the bedroom. The physician smiled gently at him and said, “It seems that you’re feeling better, Master Laurent.”

“That is relative,” said Laurent and sat down at the edge of the bed. 

“I was quite worried about you in the last days,” Paschal confessed and took his temperature, checked his eyes and heartbeat and finally nodded in satisfaction. “But I think we got you through well enough, all things considered. A short walk should do wonders for your circulation, but please make sure that you use the gardens in the back.”

“And why is that?” asked Laurent and lifted his brows.

There was quite some hesitation in Paschal’s face before he answered, “There is, ah, Sir Damianos camping in front of the house and you’re not entirely out of your heat yet, it might be unwise to-“

“Camping in front of the house,” echoed Laurent. Paschal nodded and shrugged his shoulders in a resigned gesture. “Does Auguste know of this?”

“Of course, Master Laurent. He has allowed Sir Damianos to stay in the gardens, but forbade him to enter the house. Apparently Sir Damianos was quite concerned about you.” 

Paschal nodded towards the food next to Laurent’s bed. “He pleaded to be allowed to bring food for you.”

Laurent pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to breathe through his suddenly tight throat. ”Where is Auguste?”

“I believe he is downstairs, Sir. The last time I saw him, he was studying in the living room.”

“Thank you, Paschal,” said Laurent and walked out of the room. On his way downstairs, he directed the attention of one of the housemaids towards the devastating state of his room and asked her to clean up a little, to which she happily agreed. Laurent discovered that his legs were not very steady, but he managed to get to the living room nevertheless. True enough, he found his brother on the couch, brows furrowed as he read several pages of text in his hands. When Laurent entered the room, Auguste’s head jerked upwards and he looked at him with surprised wide eyes before a smile slowly spread over his face. Laurent felt the urge to go to him and climb into his arms, but he forced himself to stay where he was to not make it awkward.

“Lulu! You look better,” Auguste greeted him warmly and Laurent found himself smiling. “Have you eaten and drank something?”

“Yes,” said Laurent and sat down on one of the heavily cushioned armchairs next to the piano. “After all, there was enough net to my bed to last me a lifetime.” Auguste had the decency to look at least a little ashamed. “When would you have told me that you decided to let Damen court me?”

“I didn’t allow him to court you,” Auguste said after a slight pause and Laurent could tell that he was honest, just like usual. “I just allowed him to stay because he was seriously worried, and I allowed him to bring you food because he really wanted to and you needed some anyways. Other than that, I didn’t allow him anything. I told him that if he wanted to try his luck with you, I would – well, I would be lying if I said that I don’t think that he would be good to you, but I will not interfere with your wishes and if he starts to pressure you, I will take the necessary steps to prevent him from doing that. I’m really sorry, Laurent. I just didn’t see any harm in it.”

“Of course you didn’t,” said Laurent, and then, “It’s alright.” Because it was, which was the strangest thing Laurent could imagine. Laurent was no fool; he knew that if Damen had wanted to, he could have fucked him through the entire heat without anyone preventing him from doing so. Instead, he had brought him into his nest, made sure that he was safe, declined his offering and apparently got him food. “Is he still out there?”

He did not expect a positive answer, but Auguste nodded. Laurent sighed again and rubbed his face. It was ridiculous – but then again, he should not have been surprised by Damen being an honorable man. For a moment, he pondered about the problem before he got up. “Then I’ll go talk to him.”

“That might not be a good idea,” said Auguste and looked a little sheepish. “You’re still not entirely out of your heat.”

“All the better,” said Laurent and walked out. 

It was a sunny day; the gentle wind was soothing on his skin that was still a little too hot and tight. He was glad to be outside and decided to take a walk after having talked to Damen. Finding the man in question was not particularly hard – his red pick-up truck was parked in a little distance to the villa and Damen was sitting next to it in the grass, head in his hands. Laurent watched him for a moment; the Alpha looked tired and worn-out, shadows dark like bruises, dark enough to show even on Damen’s olive skin, visible underneath his eyes. 

Laurent came closer and the wind turned, now coming directly from behind him.

Damen’s head whipped up as if on a signal. When he discovered Laurent, his eyes widened and he scrambled to his feet without much elegance. Laurent did not bother to suppress the bemused twitch of his lips and just stared at him as Damen shifted from foot to foot and rubbed the back of his neck in an entirely sheepish manner.

“I’m – I’m happy to see you’re better,” he said and sounded quite hesitant. His eyes flicked towards Laurent now and then before he quickly looked away again. “I was worried…a little.”

“Paschal said you brought me food,” said Laurent and realized that he was not in the mood to play games. This was something serious, perhaps the first steps to something new and unknown, something he was not even sure he wanted or could manage, but even so he had no wish to hurt Damen. Maybe that would have been just a small revelation for someone else, but Laurent was stunned by himself. 

He had not expected Damen to almost shrink into himself and hang his head so low. “I am so sorry,” he murmured, shuffling his feet. “I shouldn’t have – I know. I just couldn’t help myself, I wanted to – to make you feel better, in any way possible. And food helps. At least I know that much.”

“It does,” agreed Laurent and carefully took a step towards Damen. “It was more than I could have eaten, but what I did eat was quite…tasteful. I appreciate it.”

Damen lifted his head and the smile he gave Laurent was bright enough to light an entire village. He looked like a hopeful puppy and Laurent found himself smiling again, quietly marveling at the fact that a mountain of muscles like Damen, an Alpha worthy of a fairytale, seemed so happy in such an easy way at Laurent’s simple gesture. “That’s really great. Well, I mean…now that you’re better, I’m gonna leave you alone. Oh, by the way – I hope you don’t mind, but I asked Auguste to call your friend – Vannes? I think that’s her name – to organize notes from the courses you’ve missed. I thought you’d want to work over them when you’re feeling better again.”

For a moment, Laurent’s chest was tight enough that he could not breathe. He forced himself to exhale slowly, blaming the hormones for the sudden lump in his throat and the heavy, thunderous beat of his heart, and nodded. “Thank you,” he said, aware of how quiet his voice sounded, aware of the tension in his shoulders, the way he could not relax and openly cherish that small, very important gesture like everyone else, even though he quietly held it very dear. He owed Damen something, anything, not because he felt guilty for anything, but because he found that he wanted to be close – closer, at least, worth it. “I am not used to – someone trying to take care of me in – this particular manner.”

Damen’s eyes widened a little and he smiled again, so openly and easily that Laurent found himself wistfully looking at him, wishing for a slice of this warmth, this openness for himself. “This particular manner. Would you like to – well, would you like to see someone taking a bit more care of you in this particular manner?”

“I don’t want to get fucked,” said Laurent automatically, even though he could not help but wonder, only for a short moment, how it would be with someone like Damen.  
Damen looked a bit taken aback for a moment, undoubtedly rejected into silence. Laurent was starting to regret ever having said something when Damen finally smiled very gently, affection now showing quite obviously in his eyes. “I was thinking of a date. Taking you out for dinner or something like that.”

“I have never been on a date.”

This seemed to surprise Damen, even though he did not remain surprised for very long. Laurent found himself preparing for questions, clenching his teeth and steeling himself, but all Damen said was, “A shame. Well, I guess that means that it would have to be some really spectacular date – if you accept, of course.”

“I want to go to the library,” Laurent found himself saying and then to his immense shame he found warmth seeping into his cheeks. It had been a long time since he last had blushed; the Regent had left Laurent bleeding out every shade of red he had been able to offer, physically and mentally. He had to forcefully remind himself that it had been something entirely else.

Damen laughed heartily and leaned against his truck, muscles bunching up underneath his shirt in an entirely ridiculous way. “If you want to go to the library,” he said, “we’ll go to the library. Simple as that.”

 

Damen actually took him to the library.

In all honesty, Laurent had not expected him to. He was by no means an expert for dates and he had talked to nobody, not even Auguste, about this particular date, but he knew that people usually did not go to the library for a first date. It was difficult to talk to each other in a library, it was boring for everyone who did not have a certain interest in literature and there was no food. Yet here Damen was, carrying a basket with him when he approached Laurent, who was already waiting in front of the building.

“I thought you might want to have a picnic with me afterwards,” he explained, gesturing towards the basket that was covered with a red and white checkered blanket. Laurent thought about it and then shrugged in acceptance. A picnic probably was not a bad idea and if Damen went to the library with him, he could sit next to him in the grass and eat his food as an exchange. 

Damen had dressed up nicely. Laurent eyed him from aside when they entered the library, silently appreciating the way Damen’s red shirt clung to his abs and biceps and the way his jeans hugged his firm ass. Up to this point Laurent had not even been aware of the fact that he liked a well-shaped ass, but Damen did not disappoint in that area, nor did he in any other area so far. It also was apparent that Damen was not for the first time in the library since he waved in the direction of the librarian and she waved back rather enthusiastically, which should not have been arousing, yet Laurent found his thoughts wandering.

“Show me your favorite spot,” pleaded Damen very quietly; he was quite close to Laurent’s ear, close enough that he could feel his minted breath, and Laurent exhaled slowly before he nodded. Offense sometimes was the best defense and so he hooked a finger into one of Damen’s belt loops before he gently maneuvered him into the back of the library by pulling him forward, surprised at how willingly Damen followed him after an initial sound of surprise. Laurent directed him upstairs onto the gallery, between two rows and right into the classics division where a broad, fluffy couch was positioned right underneath a big window that let in a lot of sunlight. Looking to Damen, he was strangely pleased to find him smiling at the sight. 

“I like this,” Damen said. He was still speaking quite quietly, but this spot was far away enough from the librarian that they quietly could talk to each other without causing much problems, not to mention that there were not many people in the library at this time and not a single person in the classics division. When Damen sat down onto the couch and opened his arms invitingly, Laurent hesitated only a second before he curled up against him. For a moment, nobody spoke and Laurent did not even say anything when Damen started to stroke his hair very softly. “Laurent…”

“Yes?”

“You wouldn’t by chance like to read to me, would you? Something that is…dear to you.”

Laurent thought about it for a moment before he pushed himself up again. “Alright,” he said, feeling strangely giddy with the unfamiliar pounding of his heart, this unfamiliar hope that there could be a person where he was allowed to let go a little, just a very little. He came back with a book of poems and settled back into Damen’s arms, flipping through the page until he found Frost’s Acquainted with the Night.

“I have been once acquainted with the night,” he began softly, testing out the weight of words spoken out loud in the presence of another, “I have walked out in rain – and back in rain. I have outwalked the furthest city light. I have looked down the saddest city lane. I have passed by the watchman on his beat / And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain. I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet / When far away an interrupted cry / Came over houses from another street, / But not to call me back or say good-bye; / And further still at an unearthly height, / One luminary clock against the sky / Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right. / I have been one acquainted with the night.”

Damen was quiet for a moment, but he was still stroking Laurent’s hair, or perhaps he was stroking it again; Laurent was not sure it made a difference, so he just closed his eyes and told himself to enjoy it. It was simple; it was good. 

“Are you still acquainted with the night?” Damen asked then and his voice was very soft, as if there was something else on his mind, something he wanted to keep to himself for the moment. Laurent breathed out, Damen’s steady heartbeat against his ear.

“I think I will always be,” he said, “But I like to think that it might stay an acquaintance. I like to think…I like to think that I am deserving of light.”


	10. Damen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, my lovelies! I ran out of pre-written chapters and therefore the next one might take a while, I apologize. ;_; as always, I'm very happy about and grateful for the praise and lovely comments I get for this fanfic, you all are wonderful and I hope I continue to write something nice for you. <3
> 
> The lines Laurent quotes in this chapter are from Lord Byron's "Prometheus".

Damen was not sure what had caused Laurent to allow him to court him, but he was not stupid enough to question his luck. It was not the first time that he was courting someone; there had been a time where he had thought that he had found his proper mate in Jokaste and he had spent months wooing her. When she had finally allowed him a chase and then let him carry her into his bed, he had felt like the happiest man on earth. It had seemed as if the whole future was so certain, so full of possibilities in front of him. He had dreamed of a house with Jokaste, of children with her - if she would have had accepted and taken the proper hormonal stimulation to make conceiving possible with her Beta status – and of a dog, or even two, a cat maybe as well, if she had wanted to. He had been so sure of her reciprocated feelings; she had always made it seem as if they were so certainly there.

Laurent was different. Damen tried to be different too, tried not to expect too much and just live in the moment, which was not very hard because he always felt like a love-struck fool whenever he was around him. It was probably the hormones, even though Damen liked to think that it was simply Laurent – and it was, because he found himself awed by him every day anew. The small things were what fascinated him the most: the way Laurent moved, the way he felt in his arms, how he talked – with small, precise gestures of his hand and carefully worded phrases that made even his insults enjoyable – and how he looked at Damen from aside, sometimes, when he thought that Damen was not looking. But Damen was always looking because there always was something about Laurent that caught his attention. 

“What are you thinking about?” Laurent’s voice startled him out of his thoughts and he looked up from where he was gazing at his books without seeing anything. They had met to study; finals were coming and Damen had found that he liked Laurent’s calm, focused presence next to him to motivate him. Now they were in Damen’s living room where Damen was stretched out on the sofa while Laurent sat cross-legged on the floor, books and notes spread out in front of him in a neat way Damen would never master.

“You,” said Damen with a small smile, because it was the truth and because he could not think of anything else. Laurent flushed at that and looked down at his notes.

“You are ridiculous,” he said, but he was smiling and Damen found his heart swelling at the sight. Without much thought he leaned down from the couch until he was able to reach Laurent, who did not follow the tugging on his sleeve at first before he gave in with a sigh and let himself be pulled towards Damen. 

“Hug me,” said Damen and Laurent sighed again, but he was still smiling and Damen was awestruck when he actually climbed onto the couch to settle in his arms, pushing his head underneath Damen’s chin. As always, he was a little stiff at first, the muscles in his body only gradually losing while Damen wrapped his arms around him and gently stroked his head. 

“This is ridiculous and you’re keeping me from studying,” said Laurent, nestling his head a little closer against Damen’s chest that felt full to bursting. The pleasant, fresh smell of Laurent’s hair and skin and general being hit his nose and he buried it into the blond strands of his possible future mate, deeply inhaling and grinning stupidly to himself.

“I think about kissing you a lot,” he confessed and paid close attention to Laurent’s reaction, but Laurent was quiet and calm and even reached up to stroke his cheek, which was not what he had expected.

“Me too,” he confessed after a while, which was not what Damen had expected at all. He probably looked a little dumb as well because Laurent took one look at him and smiled with amusement. “Why are you so surprised?”

“I don’t know,” Damen admitted and laughed a little helplessly, “I just…I didn’t think that you could be interested in that, you never seemed like it. Would you – would you like me to kiss you right now? Because I could. Do that, I mean. If you want me to, that is.” 

“You know what,” said Laurent after a slight pause, “ _I_ am just going to kiss _you_.”

Damen was about to respond when he already felt Laurent’s lips against his own and involuntarily shuddered at the feeling. Laurent’s lips were firm and cool and he was surprised to find them a little chapped as well. He kissed as if he had no idea what he was doing, but Damen eagerly responded anyways, heart leaping in his throat when he slid the tip of his tongue teasingly across Laurent’s mouth and found him responding with a slight opening of his perfect, beautiful lips.

Damen almost popped a knot there and then when his tongue met Laurent’s in an almost shy, slow dance and his arms tightened around his lover without him even realizing it. Laurent made a small noise, which was enough to send tingles right into Damen’s groin. A small part of his brain found the time to feel ashamed for his extreme reactions, reactions he had never felt before like this; everything felt amplified multiple times, every touch of Laurent’s hand against his shoulder, every wet slide of their tongues against each other, every time their lips connected and foreheads knocked together, every strand of blond hair that tickled his chin. Laurent was so close, so very close, and Damen found himself swelling with emotion, with more than lust, maybe even more than love. This felt right, so right that it filled Damen’s entire heart, so right that he had no words for it, no words at all.

When they finally parted again, he found Laurent flushed and smiling in such a beautiful way that he could not help but kiss him again, as quickly and lovingly as he could. This was such a different Laurent from the one he was in public – this was a Laurent that only he was allowed to see, or at least that was what he assumed, and he held this private side of the Omega very dear. For a moment neither of them said anything; they just looked at each other, Laurent’s eyes wide and contemplative and very blue while his face was calm and thoughtful. 

“That was my first kiss,” he said after a long while, looking up at Damen’s face with a carefully neutral expression. “My first real kiss, I mean.”

There it was – the unspoken thing that seemed to hang above Laurent’s head every so often, the unspoken thing that made Damen think of Auguste’s words how Laurent had been hurt while he had been in a coma, of the careful way Laurent held himself and behaved sometimes, calculating, always calculating Damen’s behavior. He took his time to consider a proper response for a moment before he very carefully said, “You didn’t have romantic encounters before, then?”

“Not like this, no,” said Laurent after a slight pause; he did not look at Damen’s face while he said it, but at his chest instead, a chest that silently ached at his sight. “I told you that I haven’t been courted before. What were you thinking?”

“I mean…you still could have had sex with others. Or at least you could have made out with someone else before.”

“I did, in a way,” Laurent said after such a long pause that Damen had started to think that he would not answer at all. He still did not meet his gaze. “But that was something different. And he never kissed me on the lips. But that is just as well.”

Damen found himself stroking Laurent’s blond hair to keep the dread at bay that was slowly creeping into his heart, filling him with horror he did not want to name. It made him want to be a coward, to not ask any more questions about it, even though he knew that it was wrong and selfish to think so, that he should ask and that he should know for sure instead of evading the truth. So he steadied himself and then asked, very gently, “And why is that so?”

“I,” said Laurent and his breath caught at the sound of it, as if the words were knocking out every air of him, as if he had to struggle to force them out. His voice was so quiet that Damen wanted to wrap himself around him and keep him safe; instead, he held his breath and tried to remain quiet and neutral to give Laurent enough space. “I did not enjoy it very much. But I – do enjoy kissing you, which I can do carelessly since I have never done it with anyone else than you.”

There were a lot of things Damen could respond with to that, but he forced them all down, just like he forced his breath to remain even, just like he forced his heart to stop hammering, to remain calm and steady. Despite every attempt to do so, there was no way that he could avoid uncomfortable truths any longer. Hot, white fury began to bubble up inside of him, fury directed towards an unknown person, an inhuman being in his mind for hurting Laurent, but he forced it all down along with the rest because being angry in front of Laurent would not help at all. It was with great tenderness that he touched Laurent’s face, and with even more tenderness he kissed his forehead. 

“Kissing you,” he began very softly, “is quite different from kissing other people for me. I don’t know why. I can’t really explain it. I’ve never wanted to kiss someone so badly, not even Jokaste – and I’ve even helped Omegas through their heats, but none of that was…was you, I guess.”

For a moment Laurent said nothing, but when he began to speak, he looked calm and collected and his fingers curled gently around Damen’s. “Auguste told me that your relationship with Jokaste had a rather unfortunate ending, but you never speak about it. Are you ashamed?”

“No,” said Damen very honestly, “I just prefer not to think about it. I – I don’t know. She’s hurt me a lot, I guess, and I’ll probably never – anyways, now that you’ve asked I should tell you the story, I think.”

“You don’t have to.”

Damen smiled at that and softly pecked Laurent’s cheek. “Thank you,” he said, gathered his thoughts for a moment and then began, “I met her at a party. She was studying politics at that point and, well, she’s a real looker, always has been. We were introduced by a shared friend and…what can I say. She is a beautiful, intelligent woman and she knew how to make me laugh right away. Nikandros warned me about her as soon as he laid eyes on her, but I – I was so in love. I courted her for weeks.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I guess I should have been alarmed right away when she declined getting my mark again and again, but she was such a headstrong woman, I thought she was just quite – modern.”

“What happened?” Laurent asked after a while; his eyes were very bright and blue when he looked at him. 

“I found out that she had been in bed with my brother at the same time as she had been in bed with me,” said Damen. For a moment, the memory of all the pain he had felt was overwhelming and it took him several deep breaths to be able to speak again. “I still don’t really know why she did it. She tried to talk to me about it, but I…couldn’t. I just couldn’t. I would have married her, you know. Well – then I would have never held you like this, so I guess everything worked out alright in the end, but back then it was so…painful. Being able to enlist in the army was a relief, really.”

For a moment Laurent said nothing and Damen tried to think about nothing and lose himself in gazing at Laurent’s hands instead, his beautiful, elegant hands. Then his lover began to speak and their eyes met while Laurent quoted very softly, “Thy Godlike crime was to be kind,/ To render with thy percepts less / the sum of human wretchedness / and strengthen Man with his own mind.”

Damen smiled and lifted Laurent’s hand to his lips to press a kiss against his knuckle before he pulled it against his cheek. “Thank you.”

“Damen,” said Laurent after a moment, “I don’t wish to be marked as well. At least not for quite a while. It – certainly has nothing to do with my – feelings for you, however. I can work out an alternative if you give me a little time.”

“I – I can’t promise you that I’ll completely stay away from your neck, Laurent,” Damen admitted a little sheepishly. “I might impulsively try to suck on it at some point, but feel free to punch me whenever I forget. That fair?”

“Well, better than nothing,” said Laurent after another slight pause, and then, “When are you going to have your next rut?”

Damen felt himself redden quite obviously, the heat warming his cheeks and neck and visibly amusing Laurent, who watched him with a small smile. “I, uh. I think in five weeks – but it’s fine, honestly, you don’t have to worry about it, I’ll take care of it.” What he meant by that, of course, was that he planned to spend five days in bed with a raging hard-on, knotting his hand and his favorite sex toys, probably thinking of Laurent while doing so. He cleared his throat and decided not to tell Laurent any details, wondering if he should feel guilty for fantasizing about his boyfriend. 

Laurent looked at him for a moment as if he knew exactly what Damen was thinking before he shrugged a little and burrowed his face into Damen’s chest again. “I was just curious. Would you like me to be with you or should I stay away?”

“To be honest, I don’t know if I could control myself if you’re around,” Damen said after a moment of consideration. “It was something different when it was you in heat because I was the one still thinking somewhat clearly. I’ve only ever spent ruts with people I could-“

“Let go with?” Laurent finished for him and looked up, his facial expression unreadable. For a moment they just looked at each other; Damen could feel the questions and unsaid things that filled the space between them and was about to ask Laurent whether he even wanted sex at all at some point when Laurent suddenly said, “Let’s go out.”

“Now?” Damen asked. His expression was probably quite startled since he had not expected that at all, but Laurent did not seem to mind. Instead, he just nodded and sat up a little more to study his face even more intensely than before.

“Yes,” he confirmed and slightly inclined his head. “You like going out. I never cared much for it, but maybe it’s more fun with you. And besides, you went with me to the library, so I’ll go with you to a club. It’s only fair.”

“That it is,” Damen said, “But I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“I won’t. You’re with me,” said Laurent, then flushed from forehead to neck and avoided his gaze. Damen felt quite warm inside and kissed Laurent’s cheek.

“Why the fuck not?” he said and smiled.


	11. Laurent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay!! But I'm almost done with this story, so chapter updates should be regularly once a week again. :) Thank you all so much for your lovely support, I'm really overwhelmed by all of your positive feedback <3

“You’re going out,” Auguste repeated. Laurent wondered for a moment whether he should feel insulted by the incredulous tone in his brother’s voice, but then he decided against it. After all, Auguste had every right to be a little bewildered.

“Yes,” he calmly confirmed and cradled the phone between his head and shoulder to be able to open the door of Damen’s car. “I guess I won’t be gone for too long, though. We’ll see. Anyways, you don’t have to worry, Damen is with me, in case you’re wondering.”

There was a moment of silence. Then Auguste very carefully asked, “Will you stay the night with Damen?”

“I don’t think so,” Laurent replied without thinking before he found himself hesitating to his own surprise. “Well… I’ll call you, alright?”

“It’s fine if you do, Laurent,” Auguste said very gently. “You’re an adult and you make your own decisions. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do.”

“And you also know that you can stay the night at Damen’s place without having to sleep with him, right?”

“Auguste,” said Laurent a little sharper than necessary. “I know. It’s alright.”

“It is, it certainly is,” Auguste agreed and sounded more nervous than Laurent could ever feel. It was almost amusing. “Alright. If anything happens, you can call me any time and I’ll send Jord to get you, okay?”

There were a lot of things Laurent could say to that and not all of them were very nice. Instead of selecting one of them, however, he just took a deep breath and answered very calmly, “I know. Thank you. You’re a good brother.”

“I love you, Lulu. Have fun,” Auguste replied and hung up. Laurent slid the phone back into the pocket of his pants and looked up at Damen, who stared back at him expectantly. Once more, Laurent could not help but notice what a looker Damen was: tall, broad-shouldered, his dark curls tied up in a small, messy bun now that they were getting longer and his handsome face always showing a friendly, open smile. It was no wonder that he had so many admirers and yet it was Laurent he had chosen, despite their rocky start. It was truly startling. “I’m ready.”

“Great,” Damen said and reached for his hand. Laurent let him hold it without thinking twice, trailing after him and admiring the backs of Damen’s strong legs while Damen chattered away about a new project he had to finish for one of his courses. Laurent was, all things considered, not a small person, but he had no chance against a frame like Damen’s or Auguste’s, so it was no surprise that his hand fit into Damen’s palm without a problem. He was so mesmerized by the image that he only looked up when Damen squeezed his hand very gently; his dark eyes were warm with affection when they met Laurent’s. “After you, my lord.”

Laurent huffed indignantly, but climbed into the co-driver’s seat of Damen’s pick-up truck, where he settled in with a small sigh of satisfaction. When Damen squeezed himself behind the steering wheel, Laurent found himself touching his hand again, then his arm. His boyfriend – Laurent supposed that he could be called that by now – looked at him with apparent surprise before his expression turned a little thoughtful. Just when Laurent wanted to ask him what he was thinking about, Damen lifted his hand and placed small, gentle kisses along Laurent’s much paler wrist, his lips lingering a little too long on every place; Laurent found himself flushing, overly so, helpless in the face of Damen’s always somewhat unexpected gentleness. 

“It’s gonna be fun, I promise. I know a place you’ll like,” Damen murmured against his skin, eyes smiling as much as his lips when he looked to Laurent and let go of his hand.

“Is it your favorite place?”

“It could be, I think, as long as you’re with me.”

Laurent breathed in unsteadily before he breathed out equally unsteadily and said, “You don’t have to say these things. I already like you. It’s not necessary to sweet-talk me.”

“I’m not sweet-talking you.”

“People always only say these things when they think that the other person they’re trying to woo wants to hear them. They’re never real. It’s just a construct, meant to lure people in.” The audible hum of the truck’s motor was surprisingly comforting. Laurent fastened his seatbelt and looked out of the window while Damen steered the car out of its parking space and onto the road. 

“I don’t have a favorite place so to speak,” Damen said after a moment, “It really depends on whom I’m hitting the bars with, so I’m simply honest with you. Since you’re the person I want to spend time with the most at the moment, wherever we go will probably be my favorite place, at least for today. You don’t have to worry that I’m sweet-talking you, I think you’re way too clever for that to work anyways.”

“I see,” said Laurent and was not sure whether he felt foolish, so he just curled up a little more in the seat and continued to look outside. When he could feel Damen’s hand resting gently against his back a moment later, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I didn’t want to insult you.”

“I know that, Laurent, I’m not offended,” Damen replied with a quiet laughter, patting his back reassuringly once more before withdrawing his hand again. “It’s alright. I mean, it probably isn’t even that unrealistic to say that a lot of people use that kind of persuasion, but we’re way past that point, aren’t we?”

“I guess so,” Laurent murmured, helpless against Damen’s charming honesty. “How far away is it?”

“It’s still about fifteen to twenty minutes away, I’d say. Want me to turn on the radio?”

Laurent could not help but smile a little before he leaned forward to push the buttons himself, fiddling with the channels until he found a suitable one and soft jazz music filled the car. From the corner of his eyes he could see Damen grin at him, with such fondness that Laurent, once again, felt weakened against it. “Why do you like me?”

“Well, for your deep, analyzing questions for one,” said Damen and laughed when Laurent glared at him. “It’s not that hard, really. I’m pretty sure I already told you. I like the way you focus on things you like, for one, you always get so intense when you can discuss your favorite topics. I like how gentle you are with pets, even with that brutal cat of yours.”

“Belle is not brutal. You just have no sense for cats, you dog-loving giant animal.”

Damen laughed again and shook his head. “That cat is the only animal here. You wanna hear more of what I like about you?”

“Please,” Laurent found himself quietly saying, not meeting Damen’s gaze. He resisted the urge to gnaw on the nail of his thumb and rested both of his hands in his lap instead.

“Well, you’re the fastest reader I know. You have something to say about almost every topic I talk about with you, even soccer. You come to my games, even though you consider them a waste of time. You’re so organized that even the socks in your drawer are sorted by color – and I like that, even though I could never live like that. You are-“

“Stop,” Laurent interrupted him and closed his eyes. The blood rushing in his ears made it difficult to hear anything else. “When you say things like that – I can’t think.”

“Alright. Can I…what do you like about me, then?”

“You’re better about all this sappy romantic stuff.”

Damen chuckled and did not seem to be offended in the least. “Well, that’s nice for a starter. What else?”

Laurent took a deep breath. “You’re gentle. You’re very smart, I suppose, even though you have absolutely no knowledge of human nature and are way too trusting for your own good, just like a puppy. But that’s because…because you have a good heart. You look at Omegas and Betas and see them as people and not their dynamics. You know how to…how to inspire people. People feel safe with you because they can trust you. You always stand to your word. You would never backstab someone or overstep someone’s personal boundaries, at least not on purpose. I don’t – I don’t know how to – it’s impossible not to like you. I hated you, I dreamed of doing the same to you that was done on Auguste – and now that I know, I feel…I feel…”

“It’s alright, Laurent, you don’t have to explain anything or apologize,” Damen said, his voice sounding a little rough, and he reached for his hand to squeeze it lightly. “Thank you. I’m…it’s not always…I don’t always know what you need, but I want to make everything right. I’m really trying.”

“I know,” said Laurent and then, helplessly, “This is ridiculous - let's just...let's just stop with all that. When will we be there?”

“In about five minutes or so,” was the reply, along with an equally helpless laughter. “Apparently you can be pretty sappy too, darling. We should get roles in a Patrian soap opera.”

Laurent smiled at that and decided to look out of the window again before things could get even more awkward. Damen was driving them to the other end of the city, that much was clear, and he finally stopped in front of a modern-looking, flat building with a front that consisted entirely of windows. They were early enough that the dancefloor was not packed yet, but at the same time late enough that there were enough people there already. Laurent unbuckled his seatbelt and left the car to peer through the windows while Damen shut off the motor, got out of the car himself and locked it. The inside of the club was all clean, sleek lines with some playful touches here and there in the form of ornate golden patterns along the dark tapestry, heavily decorated chandeliers on the ceiling that reminded Laurent of those he had at home and other delightful details. The music was of Damen’s taste, which meant that it was happy, upbeat pop music, something Laurent could very much deal with as long as it was not electronic or house music. The crowd inside was a mixture of all possible dynamics, their scents mingling in the club’s generous space so that one had to get close to someone to sniff out a personal scent. Laurent instinctively leaned closer into Damen and wrapped an arm around him. When he realized what he was doing, he decided to do nothing against it. As a reward, Damen beamed down at him like the lovesick puppy he was, apparently not in the least insulted that it was Laurent wrapping an arm around him and not the other way around. 

“Would you share a drink with me?” he asked and Damen blinked a little in surprise, probably because Laurent rarely drank anything alcoholic, but then he nodded enthusiastically and led them towards the bar at the other end of the dancefloor.

“I suppose you don’t want a beer?” Damen asked and grinned when Laurent made a face. “Alright. Let’s see. Some gin perhaps? Oh – we could share a glass of mojito. I think you’d like that. It’s rum, lime juice, peppermint, sugar and soda, if I’m not mistaken.”

“I trust you,” Laurent replied with a shrug and watched the barkeeper preparing their drink after Damen had ordered. When it was finished, he took a sip and decided that trusting Damen’s knowledge of alcohol had not been a mistake at all. They stayed at the bar for a while, taking turns in drinking and watching the people slowly crowding the dancefloor. Laurent found himself taken in by the relaxed atmosphere and Damen’s presence next to him, the alcohol warming him a little and doing nothing more. 

“We shall dance,” he decided after a while and took Damen’s hand, who merely laughed good-naturedly at his words and let himself be dragged to the edge of the dancefloor where they became part of the crowd without getting sucked into it. It was no surprise that people looked at Damen, looked at him a lot, not only because Damen, as it turned out, was not per se a good dancer, but a charming one with a good sense of rhythm, but also because he was so very attractive when he moved, even more attractive than usual. Laurent discovered that he did not like these looks, which was probably the reason why he leaned even closer into Damen, putting his head against his chest and closing his eyes. What they did could not even be called dancing, he decided, since it was more swaying and bouncing from foot to foot, at times even too slow for the music, but it was nice all the same. Perhaps Vannes had been right the entire time about going out, but then again the few times he had followed her into one of the clubs had never felt like going out here with Damen. 

Damen’s hands were firm against his back, slowly wandering downwards until they rested against his ass, lightly enough to push them away or back upwards again, but Laurent did nothing of the sort, mostly because it felt strangely exciting and right. He wanted Damen to touch him; he wanted Damen to kiss him, so he leaned upwards and claimed his mouth because he could and because Damen met him so willingly, so eagerly, so gently sliding his lips over Laurent’s, sucking his tongue into his mouth and kissing him vigorously until Laurent’s head spun. This was why people liked being touched, he realized; this was what people liked about sex or sexual touches and Laurent made the astonishing discovery that he liked it too, at least with Damen. In fact, he liked it enough to wonder how the rest would be, how Damen would touch him with them both being naked, whether he would put his head between his legs and his tongue inside of him, showing him the same patience in bed as he showed him outside of it. The thought made him shudder; Damen noticed and pressed him closer, rubbing his nose against the crook of Laurent’s neck. 

“Let’s go back into your apartment,” Laurent said into Damen’s ear, loud enough for him to hear, and he decided to be entirely honest, so he added, “I want to feel you. I want to be alone with you.”

Damen shuddered and touched his cheek very tenderly for a moment, even though his eyes were very dark with desire. He did not ask Laurent if he was sure, did not assure him that he could back out of it at any time. Instead, he just nodded and took Laurent’s hand, and off they went into the night.


	12. Damen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Attention: THIS CHAPTER IS SHAMELESS ABO SMUT and it contains marking, knotting (in a way), penetrative sex and dirty talk. If you're uncomfortable with that, I'd suggest you skip the chapter, it doesn't much affect the entire story. :)
> 
> To the rest of you: Enjoy! <3

Damen could not remember the last time he had been so excited to bring someone home. Maybe it was because Laurent was not someone, he was special and Damen could not stop kissing him. He almost caused a car accident when Laurent took his hand and slid it up his thigh; he really should have known better than that and the almost-collision with a street boulder brought him enough to his senses to get it together until they had parked safely in front of his apartment. He was surprised when Laurent’s mouth attacked him as soon as they had stumbled out of the car, but then he locked their mouths together and lifted Laurent up into his arms to carry him inside.

Laurent made a small, indignant noise against his mouth, but did not struggle in honesty; instead, he locked his legs around Damen and pressed himself closer while Damen climbed up the stairs and tried to unlock the door of his apartment without letting Laurent fall down. When he finally made it, he made a beeline into the bedroom without further ado, which seemed to be just fine with Laurent, who had started to nip on Damen’s lower lip by now. It was maddening enough that Damen pushed him onto the bed much rougher than intended, but Laurent did not seem to mind since he immediately wrapped his arms around Damen’s neck and pulled him downwards. 

“Get out of that shirt,” Laurent told him, his breath hot and heavy on Damen’s cheek before his lips grazed his ear. “Surely you want to serve me properly? Fulfill my needs?”

“Yes,” Damen replied without thinking twice and he ripped his shirt open in his haste to follow Laurent’s wishes, not wasting a single thought on the torn fabric or the flying buttons disappearing in the bed. Laurent looked positively delighted by that, a small smile quirking up the corners of his lovely mouth as he touched Damen’s cheek.

“So eager to please me,” he said, his voice a warm, intimate murmur that sent shivers down Damen’s spine. “If I told you to get off this bed and sleep on the floor to my feet, would you do it?”

“I still have some sort of self-respect,” said Damen. Laurent’s smile widened at that and he nodded, continuing to gently stroke Damen’s cheek until he leaned into the touch and closed his eyes in contentment. A deep, primal part of his was quite satisfied with how things were proceeding.

“Undress yourself,” Laurent said after a while, “and then undress me. Take your time – that poor shirt was quite nice and you ruined it by being a savage.”

“You like bossing me around, huh?” Damen asked with a quiet laughter, amazed at the easiness of it all, something he had not really expected after having gotten hints about Laurent’s bad experiences. This time, he opened his belt slowly, giving Laurent time to watch him before he shoved both his jeans and underwear on the floor. His lover was very quiet, but his blue eyes were dark and intent as they settled on his cock. “Like what you see?”

“It’s quite alright for an Alpha, I guess,” said Laurent, but his mouth quirked up in a smile again and he looked into Damen’s eyes before he beckoned him closer. Damen followed without thinking, drunk on the almost hungry gaze in Laurent’s eyes, the faint red splotches on his cheek that had appeared while Damen had undressed himself. With all the people Damen had already undressed in his life – beautiful people of all dynamics, some shy, some not, all of them very attractive and most of them with light hair color – it was surprising that he was excited enough that his fingers trembled when he opened Laurent’s first button, thanking the gods that his lover was not wearing anything overly complicated tonight. He did not even realize that he was holding his breath when the first stripes of pale skin were exposed. Without thinking, he leaned forward and kissed Laurent’s delicate collar bones and his chest bone, his lips trailing downwards as he opened the shirt more and more, until it fell away and exposed everything of Laurent’s upper body, from his shoulders and graceful arms to his perfect, rosy nipples. Laurent took care of the shirt and threw it to Damen’s pants and shirt, allowing Damen to push him a little more backwards into the cushions. His breath hitched in his lovely, long throat when Damen closed his lips around one of his nipples and tongued it to hardness with utter devotion, doing the same to the other when he was done. 

“The pants,” said Laurent, his voice audibly rough, but still remarkably composed. His slender fingers trembled against Damen’s hair when he complied and freed him of his pants before gently pushing his underwear down his knees. It was entirely different from the one time Damen had pulled him out of his clothes during his heat; now, he allowed himself to enjoy the moment and admire Laurent’s remarkably strong, slender legs, the legs of a runner with smooth, almost invisible blond hair. Damen slid down and kissed his elegant ankle before he let his lips wander along the inside of Laurent’s left thigh, sucking a gentle mark into the delicate skin here and there. A slight tremble ran through Laurent’s legs, even though he did not make a single noise. When Damen reached his hipbone and kissed him there as well, his breath hitched again and Damen watched him close his eyes with a deep sigh. 

Now that he was so close to it, Damen allowed himself to admire Laurent’s cock, which was slender and lovely and perfect, just like the rest of him, even though it was only half-hard for now. He was uncut and so the rosy tip of his cock was hidden behind an equally rosy foreskin that elicited the first small gasp from Laurent when Damen gently pulled it down between his thumb and index finger to slowly stroke it into full hardness. Listening to the small, almost inaudible sounds Laurent made was maddening in the best way possible; Damen lost himself in kissing and licking Laurent’s cock before his mouth wandered lower, his fingers still moving Laurent’s foreskin up and down while his tongue delved into the warm folds of Laurent’s cunt. 

It had been a while since he had eaten somebody out and Laurent was not very wet yet despite his apparent approval of the situation. He took his time to get used to Laurent and find out what he liked, using his entire face to rub against his cunt as much as he could without suffocating. He had always enjoyed this and he enjoyed it even more now with Laurent, who brought up such immeasurable feelings of tenderness inside him, who deserved all the care and happiness in the world and who had chosen Damen of all people to be with him, to share pleasure with. The way he trembled and shivered underneath Damen’s touch was incredible and he found himself lapping eagerly at the wetness that began to pool between his lover’s legs while pale fingers gripped his hair and pulled, hard. 

“You’re so eager,” Laurent murmured above him; in some distant part of his brain Damen wondered whether his lover was aware that he was talking in breathless Veretian, his legs clamping around Damen’s head and shoulders when he found a particularly nice spot to tongue and suck. “Such a good Alpha you are. I wonder if you fuck like that as well.” Damen could not help but hum his agreement and was rewarded with fingernails gently scraping over his scalp. “Yeah? Do you like having your head between my legs, fucking me with your tongue?” 

Damen hummed again and lapped at Laurent’s wetness, gently sucking on his labia before inserting a finger for the first time. Laurent made a small noise at that, his head falling back down into the cushions before his hips pushed into Damen’s touch, actively seeking the pleasure he could grant him – and granting it Damen did, or at least he tried his best, slowly fingering Laurent until he grazed that spot that caused Laurent’s breath to hitch in his throat again, this time louder and heavier than before. He wanted to watch Laurent’s face, but his lover had an arm thrown over his eyes and his head turned away, shielding himself from Damen’s gaze. 

“Are you alright?” Damen asked and pressed small kisses along the insides of Laurent’s thigh until the Omega nodded, peeking at him from underneath his arm, growling when Damen smiled fondly at the red splotches on his face. “I only want to please you.”

“Get a condom,” Laurent said, which was not quite what Damen had expected, “and then fuck me already. You must be burning to do so.”

“I like what I’m doing with you no matter what it is,” answered Damen truthfully, but he complied and carefully extracted his finger out of Laurent before he reached for the drawer of his bedside table. It was only now that he really noticed his own hardness, his cock hanging hot and heavy between his legs. When long fingers curled around it and began to stroke it with surprising expertise, he almost knocked over the entire bedside table, groaning at the sudden sparks of lustful heat cursing through his body. Laurent watched him with a small smile and hooded eyes, sprawled on the bed like an incubus ready to devour him, and Damen found his heartbeat increasing a little more every second. Putting on the condom and adding additional lube to ensure a nice, even slide in was a fumbling, long process due to all the distraction, but in the end he managed, much to his own relief. When he wanted to kneel back between Laurent’s legs, however, he found himself firmly pushed back.

“On your back,” Laurent ordered huskily, nodding in approval when Damen followed his command without hesitation. He found himself groaning in delight when Laurent pushed himself on top of him, shamelessly spreading his legs until he was straddling him, his hands flat on Damen’s chest to support his own weight.

“Kiss me,” Damen found himself begging quietly when Laurent was about to take him in, and something in Laurent’s eyes visibly softened at that. Their mouths met to an agonizingly slow kiss just as Laurent lowered himself on the tip of Damen’s cock, his cunt swallowing him without many problems. Despite the lube and preparation, he was still quite tight and so very hot; Damen groaned against his lips, gripping his hips to keep his lover from impaling himself too quickly. Instead, he helped him find a slower, shallower rhythm with gentle, circular motions of his hips, which Laurent seemed to like enough to follow Damen’s suggestions, leaning down to kiss him again when they had settled their rhythm. 

“No knotting,” said Laurent when their lips parted again. Damen felt a brief flash of utter disappointment at that, even though he immediately tried to wave it out of existence and nodded in understanding. He could feel the base of his cock thicken with every pulse of blood that was sent through his member, but it could not be helped; he would be damned if he went against his lover’s wishes. Maybe there would be time for that later, at some point in their relationship. “You can suck on my neck, if you like. No biting, though. I - that has been done before and I did not particularly enjoy it.”

"Alright, love, alright." It was some form of marking at least, and more than Damen had expected at that, so he immediately forgot all disappointment about not being able to knot and wrapped his arms tightly against Laurent to pull him down against his chest, pushing shallowly and languidly into him as his lips sought the crook of Laurent’s neck and, upon finding it, began sucking deep bruises into it right away. It felt good. It felt _right_ , Damen thought with something like dizziness, sucking and licking Laurent’s neck like a toothless vampire. It probably would have been ridiculous were it not for the fact that it felt so right for him that he could have cried about it, enhancing his desire even further. Laurent moaned very quietly into his ear; when Damen could feel his lover’s teeth suddenly biting down sharply into his neck, he could not help but yell with surprise. It took him a moment to realize that Laurent was marking him too, biting and sucking sharply to enhance the chance for a bruise, and it was enough for him to tighten his grip around him and push even harder into him.

Laurent was everywhere, his scent in Damen’s nose, his teeth in Damen’s neck, his hands in Damen’s hair, his cunt clamping down on Damen’s cock, his small, breathless noises in Damen’s ears. Damen had never felt like this in his entire life; it was a feeling of wholeness, of perfection he had never known before and it was no wonder than he came harder than ever before as well, gripping his lover a bit too tight for a moment before he quickly closed his own fist around his swelling, popping knot to give it more pressure. Laurent stilled around him, his breath harsh and heavy, but his face was calm and almost serene when he gently stroked Damen’s cheek. There was something about him that Damen had not seen before; it took him a moment before he realized that this was Laurent when he was truly relaxed and trusting. Damen could not stop coming; no matter how hard he tried, a look in Laurent’s face enough to cause his cock to trickle again. It was something he had only known of ruts so far. 

“Are you alright?” he asked and Laurent nodded, his neck dark and almost purple from where Damen had suckled on his neck even though he had tried to be careful, but surprisingly enough he did not seem to mind. Instead, Damen watched him press slender fingers against the markings in almost absent-minded wonderment. Damen groaned and bit into the fist that was not busy holding his knot to keep himself from coming again. “You didn’t come yet. Let me-“

“I’m fine,” Laurent said reassuringly, his voice surprisingly soft and quiet. He stroked Damen’s cheek again before he carefully got up from his cock and looked at Damen’s tight fist with interest. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” Damen lied and smiled. Laurent looked at him for a moment; his mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, before he abruptly closed it again and slid out of the bed.

“I’ll be right back,” he told Damen over his shoulder and disappeared into the bathroom. Damen looked after him with wide eyes, wondering what he had done wrong. At least it was enough for his knot to slowly subside and he exhaled harshly after he was able to open his fist again, disposing of the condom and flopping back into the cushions again to close his eyes for a moment. The next thing he saw was Laurent kneeling next to him, a warm, wet washcloth sliding over Damen’s stomach, thighs and cock. Laurent was cleaning him, just like he had apparently cleaned himself. It was such an Omega sweetness that a very primal part of Damen growled in approval inside of him.

“Are you sure you’re alright? I can…did I hurt you?”

“No,” said Laurent after a pause and put the washcloth onto Damen’s bedside table when he was done, only to settle next to him and snuggling against Damen’s side in a surprisingly affectionate gesture. “I’m fine. That was…adequate.”

“Adequate,” Damen echoed, smiling helplessly at everything Laurent was. “Even though you didn’t come?”

“I have some problems with that,” said Laurent after another pause and awkwardly patted Damen’s shoulder. “I already talked with my…with my therapist about it. It’s not your fault. It was…I really enjoyed it. And I enjoy this.”

Damen grinned when Laurent’s finger carefully stroked the markings he had left in Damen’s neck. “Claiming what’s yours so nobody else gets some of it?”

Laurent looked at him with solemn eyes. "If what's mine is worth it - always."


	13. Auguste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your patience! There will be only one more chapter and an epilogue after this chapter. The story is coming to an end... But fear not, I've got some ideas for a few oneshots, if someone is interested in that. :3
> 
> For now: Enjoy reading!

Auguste realized that it was strange to go to bed knowing that his brother was in good hands, but would not return home for the night. He could not remember the last time that had been the case or if it ever had been the case at all; Laurent had never stayed overnight at one of his friend’s places and he had never had a lover before as far as he knew, so the chances were quite low. And now he had called him breathlessly, with quiet excitement in his voice, to tell him that he would indeed not come home that night, the sounds of club music and Damen’s warm, deep rumbling voice audible in the background. It was truly strange, but Auguste could not help but glow with happiness at his brother’s happiness.

After he had hung up, he found himself eye to eye with Nicaise, who apparently had entered the room while Auguste had been talking to Laurent over the phone. The teenager was wearing slightly less problematic clothes today, or at least the glittery shirt above his daisy dukes was non-transparent and covered most of his upper body. It was a small improvement, Auguste supposed, and so he smiled benignly at the Omega. “Have you finished your homework already?”

“Yes, I already finished my stupid homework. I mean it’s almost midnight already,” Nicaise muttered and lightly kicked against the couch table before he sat down next to Auguste. “Was that Laurent? When’s he coming home?” 

“Tomorrow,” Auguste replied with a small sigh and leaned forward in an attempt to stroke Nicaise’s head; the boy ducked away underneath his touch before he could even reach him. “He’s staying with Damen tonight.”

“He’s staying with Damen tonight,” Nicaise echoed. It took no master of reading body language to see that he was angry, his pretty face revolting with it. “You mean he’s spreading his legs for that Alpha.”

Auguste closed his eyes for a brief moment before he said very patiently, “Nicaise. It’s of no interest to you or me what Laurent is doing with anyone or if he does it at all. You should stop being so obsessed with that. Have you…did you talk to Dr. Herodes about that yet?”

“You want me to not think about whether Laurent is whoring himself out or not, but you want me to talk about it with my shrink? Isn’t that a little hypocritical?” 

Auguste snorted and ran a hand through his hair. Whenever he had to deal with Laurent’s and Nicaise’s probably forever damaged relationship to sexual experiences, he felt ten years older than he was. “You know it’s not because those are two different kinds of situations. You don’t have to, of course, I was just thinking that it might help.”

“Well, it won’t,” Nicaise snapped and bounced up and down on the couch like an angry rubber ball. “Why did you let him go?”

“Because Laurent is a responsible adult who manages his own life,” Auguste answered with raised eyebrows, “He can hang out with everyone he wants to and if he decided to sleep his way through town, I wouldn’t stop him – just tell him to be careful and use condoms, probably, because that’s important.”

“You’re his warden. You should make rules!”

Auguste quietly wondered how often he had had that or a similar discussion by now. It had to be over fifty thousand times, at least it felt that way. “I’m his warden, that’s right, but Laurent isn’t in prison, for God’s sake, and you aren’t either – you’re just younger and I have to look out for you more, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

“My birthday is in two weeks,” Nicaise said and suddenly looked suspiciously close to tears. Auguste sat up with a groan and reached for him, surprised when the boy actually accepted his silent invitation and snuggled up into his arms. 

“Is that why you’re acting out so much lately?” he asked and was not surprised when he got no answer. With a sigh he stroked Nicaise’s dark curls and looked out of the windows. “A birthday is a reason to celebrate, Nicaise, no matter how old you get. There is no shame in aging, you know, if anything it’s a testimony for having enough strength to get through another year – and believe me, life is hard enough to make that a real accomplishment.”

“Easy for you to say that,” said Nicaise hoarsely, “as an Alpha and a firstborn and the heir of an outrageous fortune. You’ll never know what it’s like.”

“Like what?”

“Like…” There was visible strain in Nicaise’s pretty face, an old wound clawing and scratching its way onto the surface until he finally bit out, “Not being wanted. You’ll never know what it’s like. Nobody sold you because you were too much. Everyone looks at you and automatically loves you. You father loved you. Your mother loved you. Laurent loves you – he would die for you. My Alpha mom – my Omega mom – they gave me away as soon as the Regent saw me…they never even…”

“Nicí,” said Auguste very, very gently and slowly pushed Nicaise’ head against his chest until his cheek pressed against his breastbone, the smaller body tense with emotions. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy for your parents. They were very poor. I’m sure if there had been another possibility-“

“No,” Nicaise forcefully interrupted him and lifted his head to look at him with red-rimmed, angry eyes. “They never looked for me. They never tried to contact me! They never said anything, they didn’t even want to see me after the process! They could have had me back – but they allowed you to take me in without batting an eyelash! It’s all the same to me – I don’t need them, I don’t need them at all, I just – I just want to know – why don’t they love me like my siblings?”

“Oh, my little lamb,” Auguste said quietly, helpless in the sudden well of tears emerging from Nicaise’s eyes. It was an old pain indeed, one he was seeing for the first time in its fullest, ugliest form, and he wondered how he could have missed it. “I don’t know. Perhaps you’ll never know, perhaps you’ll confront them one day, who knows? I just – I can only tell you that I love you like my own flesh and blood and that I would never abandon you.”

Something twisted in Nicaise’s face and he wiped his tears away with a rough gesture before he openly sneered at him, the wounded child forced back behind the angry teenager. “That’s what the Regent said too before he fucked me,” he said and Auguste should have expected him to violently lash out by now, but he still shook from shock at the sudden verbal assault. “And it was as much a lie as your words now because he’s in prison now and he’ll probably not want me back anyways if he ever gets out. And you’re weak. You can yell at me all you want, I could probably kill you in your sleep.”

“I know why you’re doing this, Nicaise,” said Auguste quietly, forcing the words through his anger and disgust, forcing himself to remain calm and focused, ignoring his blazing headache and the way his fingers trembled. “But there is no need for that. I’m not your enemy. Nobody in this house is your enemy. We’re your family now. No matter you insult me, I will not abandon you.”

“You think you can save me by taking care of you,” Nicaise replied, sliding off his lap and standing in front of him with fiery eyes, every word stinging like a backhanded blow. “But you can’t. You couldn’t save your own brother and you can’t save me. You can’t just pray love and hope that everything will be alright if you just sit there in your fucking wheelchair and let everything run its course.”

“Nicaise-“ Auguste started, but the words stuck to the roof of his mouth, stunned by slow terror creeping into his heart. Nicaise looked at him for a moment longer; there was something unreadable in his expression, something unknowable, only visible for the tiniest moment before he whirled around and stormed out of the room. Auguste called after him, but Nicaise was already gone and he was left with the blinding terror quickly turning into something hotter, something that made thinking even more difficult than usual – panic, he realized after a long moment, sheer panic it was that caused him to jump up in a quick motion that would have been nothing than natural for him four or five years ago, but now was too much for his body to handle. 

He hit his head on the table when he fell, but he barely noticed it, coming up on all fours with so much struggle that it made him cry out in pain. Far, far worse than the physical pain, however, was the realization that Nicaise’s words hurt so much because they were no lies – he was absolutely, absolutely right. There was nothing Auguste was good for, nobody he could protect; he had failed, and he would always and forever fail at it, crippled and confined to a wheelchair, crutches and good medical service. 

“Sir, I just saw young master Nicaise wandering out of the house – sir! Are you alright?” Auguste yelped when strong hands gripped him underneath his arms and helped him upwards in a standing position until he could see in Jord’s worried face. “Sir, are you hurt? Should I get Paschal?”

“No,” Auguste replied and gingerly touched the spot on his head where he had hit the table, silently relieved when his fingers came away bloodless. “I’m fine…well, I don’t have any new injuries, at least. Where did he go? Nicaise, I mean.”

“I don’t know, he just breezed past me without a word and was gone so quickly that I couldn’t stop him,” Jord admitted and lowered his eyes, as always quite respectful and this time apparently truly ashamed on top of that. “I’m really sorry, sir. I’ll go look for him right away.”

“I’ll come with you,” Auguste said quickly, “Get the car.”

Jord looked a little surprised at that, but he nodded and hurried off after he had made sure that Auguste had his crutches and was able to walk. Walking, Auguste reflected bitterly as he limped towards the door, was relative, as most things were for him, but he kind of managed to get by nevertheless, ignoring the pain in his back and legs. It was hard not to cry in moments like that, hard not to drop down and simply wait for death – but Nicaise had to be found before he could do something stupid in his emotional state, in the middle of the night on top of that. 

Jord was silent when he helped Auguste into the co-driver’s seat and then squeezed himself behind the steering wheel, nodding at Lazar, who was to look after the house while they were gone, before he started the engine and drove onto the streets. It was deadly quiet in the inside of the car, both of them focusing all of their attention on their surroundings for the slightest sight of Nicaise. After half an hour, Auguste started to fidget. After one hour, they had to stop for a moment because he could not breathe, panic closing his throat so entirely that he almost suffocated on it. After two hours, Jord told him to wait in the car while he went out and looked for Nicaise in the bushes. By then it was almost three in the morning and Nicaise was nowhere to be found. 

Auguste allowed himself to cry that time, alone in the dark car in the middle of a deserted street and full of exhaustion. 

When Jord came back, worry written clearly all over his face, Auguste had managed to pull himself together again for the most part. By then, dawn had begun to bloom on the horizon, coloring the sky in a lighter blue than before while Auguste and Jord discussed what to do next, ultimately settling on driving back to the mansion to wait for him there in case that Nicaise was only sulking and would be back in a few hours. But he was not there when they arrived, and he was not there a few hours later after Auguste had fallen asleep against his will, only to wake up in panic as well as in utter pain at around eight in the morning.

Nicaise was nowhere to be found and he either had no desire to return home or something had happened to him. There were a hundred places around and on the Aurifére estate where he could hide and Auguste did not know his favorite spots well enough to find him together with Jord on his own. In the end, there was only one thing he could do besides calling the police, which was something he wanted to use as the final resort, so it was with a heavy heart that he picked up his phone and dialed Laurent’s number.

His brother only answered after the second to last ring, his voice soft and a little raspy from sleep. It made Auguste feel even worse. “Auguste? What’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry, Laurent,” said Auguste, trying to hold back the utter sadness at having failed so badly, “I just – Nicaise is gone and I can’t find him anywhere and I’m worried that something happened to him, but I don’t know where he could be hiding and I – I just – I just can’t find him.”

There was a brief silence at the other end of the line before Laurent very calmly asked, “When have you last seen him?”

“Yesterday,” said Auguste, trying to gather his thoughts together to be able to give as clear information as possible. “At around midnight. We had a talk about his parents and the Regent and he got – upset and ran out. I tried to follow him, but – but I –“

“It’s alright, Auguste,” Laurent interrupted him very gently. Auguste could hear Damen’s voice in the background, a muffled response from Laurent, then his brother was back on the phone. “Don’t worry, I’ll come home and look for him. Damen is coming with me. We’ll find him for sure, we’ll bring him home and then I’ll slap some sense into him for the first time in his life, maybe that will work for once.”

Auguste could not help but laugh at that, a sound that sounded hollow and broken in his own ears. “Thank you. I’m really sorry for…for tearing you away from Damen in such a manner and for ruining your…date.”

“It’s absolutely fine, Auguste,” Laurent insisted, “We’ll be home in about an hour. Don’t worry. I think I know where I’ll find him.”


	14. Damen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavy mentions of child abuse in this chapter!
> 
> So this is the last chapter of this fanfic, there will only be an epilogue after this. I'm really happy about all the positive feeback I got and I'm pretty sure that I will ocntinue to explore this AU with a few more one-shots in the future!

Damen had never seen a civilian getting dressed that quickly before, but in that area Laurent would have done well in the army. It took him no longer than Damen to get out of bed and dress himself, all the while looking impassive and almost stony, which could only mean that he was endlessly worried. Damen did not hesitate for a second before he wrapped his arms around Laurent, who tensed immediately underneath the contact before relaxing again, slowly and gradually.

“We’ll find him, Laurent,” said Damen and pressed a gentle kiss on the top of Laurent’s head. “I’ll be with you.”

“I don’t deserve you,” said Laurent after a long pause with a deep sigh before he freed himself from Damen’s arms, all the while avoiding his gaze. “Are you ready? Good. Let’s go then. The sooner we’re at home, the better.”

Damen nodded and followed him outside to his car. Laurent was quiet when they made their way onto the streets, looking out of the window in silent contemplation before he suddenly said with a rather tight voice, “Have I ever told you were Nicaise comes from?”

“I believe Auguste mentioned something about him being taken in as a foster child by your uncle because his parents were too poor to feed him through,” Damen replied, keeping his eyes on the street, but unable to feel kind of attentive, as if there was an immediate danger to be careful of. The sensation sharpened when Laurent laughed, a sharp, bitter sound that was nowhere near the gentle laughter he had gifted Damen with the night before when they had fallen asleep, entangled into each other and so close, closer than Damen had ever felt with someone before. Now, it seemed as if Laurent was lifetimes away from him, his body turned into the direction of the window.

“Well, that’s not exactly wrong,” said Laurent, “But it’s not exactly right, either. Nicaise was taken in because his parents were poor, truly, but that was merely to the advantage of my uncle because nobody would ask after Nicaise, just like nobody asked about the other boys he took in as well. On the outside, there was nothing wrong with them – they got education, clothes, three warm meals a day, money to spend on useless trinkets, a home, much more than they would have had had they stayed at their orphanages or poor families. My uncle has always been a quite generous man.”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at, Laurent,” Damen admitted after a moment, but he was gripping the steering wheel a little too tight in the rising dread of knowing, but not wanting to know, yet being unable to keep the truth from coming.

“Of course you don’t,” said Laurent almost gently, “because you’re a good man and you’d never think like that. To put it simply: my uncle likes boys. He likes all of them, as long as they don’t have neither a scent nor heats and ruts. He likes them soft and small and pretty, usually blond or at least with hair of a lighter color, but then again he’s taken Aimeric to bed as well and Aimeric has fairly dark brown hair, so – Damen! For god’s sake, watch out!”

The car had screeched to a halt when Damen hit the brake so hard that he almost tore off his own foot. A dim part of his brain registered that it was fortunate they were alone on the rural road and that he had stopped the car fairly on the side of the street; the rest of him, however, got out of the car and slammed the door shut before he leaned over and placed both hands on the hood of the car to steady himself, his heart hammering in his chest. It had been a while, but he knew a panic attack when he had one – and it was laughable and egoistic, really, to have one over something that did not even happen to himself, but he could not stop it. When Laurent came to him, his face pale and worried, his blue eyes wide, he took one look at him and found himself saying, voice very small, “He – he liked you too, right? Your uncle. That’s why Auguste was so adamant about getting him into prison. It was never about the money, was it? It was about-“

“Damen, stop,” said Laurent more forcefully than he had heard him in weeks. By now he was shaking almost as much as Damen’s hands. “This is not about me and it’s not something I wish to discuss, not now and probably never. I only told you – I only mentioned that to help you understand why – why Nicaise is behaving like that. Why we need to be - gentle with him.“

It took Damen a while to respond to that, mostly because he was busy breathing in and out in something that resembled a normal pattern as well as trying to regulate his racing heart it. He clenched and unclenched his hands repeatedly while Laurent was watching him quietly, his eyes dark and unreadable, before he put a hand on Damen’s lower arm in quiet comfort – as if Damen’s pain was the greater one, his wounds the graver ones. It was ridiculous. Damen groaned and wrapped his arms around his lover to cradle him against his chest in that blinding need to keep him safe.

“I’m sorry,” Laurent muttered after a while when he had made no move to free himself from Damen’s grip, which was surprising enough in itself. “I should have considered that you could be upset. I shouldn’t have mentioned it while you’re driving… But you’re always doing so well, I didn’t consider the possibility that you could have – a bad episode.”

“I’m fine,” said Damen, which was not entirely true, but he was better now that he was able to hug Laurent tightly enough to get the illusion of protecting him. “Just give me a minute. And don’t be sorry, you did nothing wrong.”

“Alright,” said Laurent and then, after several quiet moments had passed, added, “I am – I am not damaged or something and it was a long time ago, for me at least. You’re suffocating me, Damen.”

“Okay,” Damen answered and nudged his face against Laurent’s neck where he was still purple and blue from his sucking attempts at marking him without a bite, but he did not let go yet. “I don’t think that, by the way. I just wish…”

“I know.” Laurent’s voice was gentle and he briefly touched Damen’s face with his fingertips before he finally freed himself from Damen’s grip and walked back to the car. Damen watched him go and breathed in more deeply again, the panic and tremor in his hands and chest not yet entirely gone, but he still wanted to push himself back into the driver’s seat before Laurent stopped him with a shake of his head. “Let me drive. You’re still shaking. Take your time.”

“I should be the one taking care of you,” said Damen without thinking and he probably deserved the gaze of utter distaste Laurent gave him at that, a gaze that was powerful enough to cause him to slide into the co-driver’s seat without another protest, not entirely ungrateful for the extra time to get a hold of himself while Laurent steered them both back onto the street again, his face entirely impassive. Now that he had been forced to look truth in the ugly eye, there were a lot of things going on in Damen’s head, but Laurent had emphasized that he did not want to talk about it and in a way, Damen could relate, even though he did not particularly like it. Then again, there was a lot – the biggest part, truth to be told – he had not told Laurent about the war, about the things he had done there, the people he had killed. Perhaps he would, someday, and perhaps Laurent would talk to him one day as well, but there was no need to force those discussions. 

It was only after a while that he noticed that Laurent was not driving them to the Aurifére mansion, but rather drove past by it, the car rumbling along a small path that could barely be called a street, leading them into the forest that began next to the horse paddocks. Laurent seemed to know exactly where he was driving, not even bothering to look left or right while Damen squinted his eyes in the hopes of making out Nicaise’s slim frame somewhere between the trees. 

At the end of the path, Laurent stopped, turned off the engine and looked at Damen. “We have to go the rest of the way.”

“Alright,” Damen agreed and got out of the car that was locked right away by Laurent, who stepped to his side and took his hand. Damen allowed himself to be led deeper into the woods, away from the path and their car, until lovely old trees were the only thing that still surrounded them. Their crunching footsteps were loud in the peace and quiet of the forest, only interrupted by the occasional chirping of a bird hidden in the wide treetops above them. Had they not been on the search for a rebellious teenager, it would have been quite romantic. 

“We used to come here often after Auguste had won the process,” said Laurent after a while, watching the ground in front of his feet before his gaze swiftly wandered over their surroundings again. “Into this forest, I mean. We were gone for hours. It was not exactly…we didn’t play together or anything, each of us had his own territory, so to speak, but we came here together and we returned together and we knew were the other one was. We learned to hide very well here. It became sort of a competition to have the better hideout. It was…I don’t know. Less stressful, outside here. Nobody to watch us like a hawk for a sign of lapse or depression or anything. Nobody to tell us to eat, to sleep, to talk about it, to get us to a therapist.”

Damen had the slight feeling that Laurent did not want him to respond to that, so he stayed quiet and only very gently squeezed Laurent’s hand in his own, trying to show him that he understood, at least a little bit. He was rewarded with a warm smile before Laurent stopped in front of a rather majestic tree and looked up. Damen could see absolutely nothing up there, but he was content to wait and see. 

“Nicaise,” Laurent called, “come down here. Auguste is worried sick about you.” There was no answer except for the slight rustling of leaves in a gentle breeze. After a moment, Laurent looked at Damen and murmured, “Go away for a bit. Maybe hide behind that tree over there or something. I think he doesn’t want you here.”

Damen suppressed the childish comment that he felt rather loved and nodded instead, distancing himself from Laurent and the tree he was standing in front of to hide behind one that stood a little farther away. For a moment there was silence; Laurent just looked up to the treetop and waited, his blond hair softly swaying in the slight breeze. Surprisingly enough the first noise did not come from him. It came from above instead, from leaves rustling until there was a flash of pale skin, nothing more. It was enough for Laurent to incline his head a little. “Talk to me.”

“Talk to you? Are you finally done fucking with that big animal so you can make time for your brother?”

“Nicaise,” said Laurent very calmly, “I came here in the bright light of morning to look for you and Damen was kind enough to support me. What we did or didn’t last night is none of your business, it is mine and Damen’s alone, but I am here for you now, so tell me what’s wrong.”

There was a long silence in the tree. Then Nicaise said, “Do you ever feel as if nothing you do really matters because you don’t know how to live with yourself?”

Damen felt himself clenching the bark and leaned his cheek against it. He closed his eyes when Laurent said very solemnly, “Every day, sometimes more than once. It’s why I go to therapy. Do you think I like it? Talking about these things with a person who cannot ever imagine what it’s like? But it’s worth it because every time I go there, every time I deal with people, it gets better…and now I got Damen.”

“Damen, Damen!” Nicaise snorted and climbed down one branch so that he was a little more visible. “I hate him. I hate him so much. And it’ll only be so long before he hurts you and then you’ll regret it. And then you’ll…then you’ll be unhappy. And I think…I think that you…I don’t want…”

“It’s alright,” said Laurent after a long moment, his voice unusually soft. Damen opened his eyes to see him drag his hand over his face with a deep sigh before he squared his shoulders. “I know. I know all this. You see – you’re not alone with this, with nothing. But Damen is not the problem. I wanted to hate him as much as you did, you know that. But so far he has never shown me anything less than honesty, truth, compassion and love. I have never met someone like him before except for Auguste, Nicaise, and you have to trust me as much as I have to trust him.” There was another pause where Damen could feel his heart tremble so much in his chest that he had the feeling of dying. Then Laurent added even more softly, “I know it’s the hardest thing, trusting a person. It’s even harder than trusting yourself. But not trusting anybody is terribly lonely, and I am so…I am so tired. Aren’t you?”

“I don’t know,” said Nicaise and suddenly looked close to tears. “I don’t know. I don’t want you to leave me alone. I don’t want you to mate and leave. You’re – you’re terribly selfish, thinking only of yourself like that.”

Laurent laughed at that, which was not quite what Damen had expected. “Probably,” he admitted with a shrug, “But I think that everyone is entitled to a little selfishness every now and then. You do it all the time, you little bug.”

“That’s different.”

“Is it?”

Once more there was silence for quite a while. Damen thought that all of this in its incredible honesty was not something that he should hear; but Laurent had told him to hide and wait and he had to have known what was about to come so he stayed where he was, uncertainty lining his entire body. Laurent did not move and neither did Nicaise, both of them locking gazes. After a while, however, Nicaise sighed deeply and began to climb down with the jerking, angry motions of an unwilling teenager. 

“That doesn’t mean that everything’s great again,” he said and glared up at Laurent, who met his gaze without batting an eyelash. Instead he reached out and lightly touched Nicaise’s shoulder, squeezed it only for a brief moment before he let go again.

“I know,” he said solemnly, “but it’s a start.”

Nicaise huffed and avoided his gaze. “And you can tell your giant animal that he can stop trying to hide behind that tree. He’s about as subtle as a brick wall on an open field.”

Laurent looked at Damen, helpless laughter dancing in his eyes when Damen almost sheepishly came forward and rubbed the back of his neck. For a moment Damen was unsure how to react – but then Laurent opened his arms a little bit in a silent gesture and there was nothing easier than to walk over to him and take his hand. Nicaise watched them silently, his mouth still pressed together in a tight, hostile line, but when Laurent reached for him and lightly ruffled his hair he did not duck away.

“I’ll go get back to Auguste before you two start fucking each other in front of my eyes,” he said, still looking at Damen as if he wanted to stab him with a fork before he turned back on his heels and stomped away through the forest. There was rustling and bustling as he found his way through the woods and Damen listened to it for a while, smiling when Laurent turned himself into his arms after a few minutes, putting his head on Damen’s chest without a word.

“Why didn’t you completely send me away?” Damen asked after a while and Laurent rubbed his cheek against his chest, not answering right away.

Then, “If you really want me, you need to know. You need to know what he’s like, what he feels, because it’s what I feel – felt like for years. I am not – very good with trusting people, we all aren’t. It’s something you have to get used to. I’ll never be very openhearted and I’ll have a hard time telling you if there’s something wrong. It won’t be ideal, not in the least. You’ll probably hate me for how I am-“

“Laurent,” Damen gently interrupted, taking his hands in his own. “Are you trying to talk me out of a relationship with you? I’m not that easy to get rid of, you know, and I’m not expecting something utterly ideal. I want you, utterly and completely, with all your faults and strengths, and I hope that’s what you want too because I’m not perfect either. It’s what humans are – and you’re worth it, you’re so worth it. Never think anything less of you. Alright?”

Laurent’s expression was unreadable at first when he looked at him. Then, slowly, it melted into something considerably softer and he nodded, once. “Alright,” he agreed very quietly, closed his eyes and leaned his head against Damen’s chest again. Damen pulled him tighter against his chest and tried to be even more than he already was, stronger, warmer, to provide for him, stroking hair as fine as spun gold, his heart full of emotions that were strong enough to ache. He could not remember the last time he had been so full of love and for a small, quiet moment he thanked the gods that he was able to experience this single moment of perfection. 

Not all things were well, not yet – but they would make them well enough for years to come.  
 


	15. Epilogue: Laurent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the very end of this journey. Thank you all so much for your continued support, your love, your kudos and your kind comments, they really kept me going! For everyone who is still interested in this AU: I started writing a few one shots, which I will likely put into a collection that I'll update every once in a while. We'll see how kind the muse is to me! I certainly have a few ideas for them.

“I can’t believe it’s been two years already,” Damen mused, watching him affectionately through the mirror. Laurent just snorted and corrected the position of his tie. “Why are you snorting at me? Here you are, celebrating the completion of your degree, and I’m still not done with mine!”

“You started two semesters later than me,” retorted Laurent, sighing when Damen leaned down to put his chin on Laurent’s left shoulder and his hands around his waist. “You’re crumbling my suit, Damianos.”

“Oh, so this is a ‘Damianos’-situation,” said Damen with a grin and did not bother to move even an inch. “Shit is getting serious.”

“Stop making fun of me, you big oaf,” said Laurent and tried to stab his index finger into Damen’s arm, which only resulted in Damen lifting him up without any problem and carrying him into their bedroom. “What are you doing? The suit! I’m going to be late because of you, in a rumpled suit on top of that!”

“You’re fine,” Damen replied and kissed his protests away until he was so focused on Damen’s lips and the gentle scratching of his stubble against his own cheeks that he did not even notice when he was lowered onto their bed at first and when he did, it was too late: Damen had softened him already.

“I am so proud of you,” his Alpha murmured, showering him with even more gentle kisses on his cheeks, his throat, his chin. “You’re the cleverest, most beautiful and most talented person I know. I want to – I want to spend my whole life with you, only you. I can’t imagine being with someone else. You’ve ruined me for everyone out there.”

“Nikandros is going to hate hearing that,” said Laurent with an amused smile, tenderly stroking Damen’s temples and, out of a playful mood, his ears as well. “You’ve got bad taste, Damianos Heliopoulos.”

“I have only the best taste,” replied Damen. His mouth stilled on Laurent’s shoulder; when looked up at him, his eyes were warm and solemn. “I’m serious, my love. The last two years have helped both of us develop so much, I’d say, each for himself and both together, and I still love waking up next to you. I love making you breakfast because you can’t even boil an egg. I love brushing your hair and the way you lay out my clothes for the next morning because you have no trust in my fashion senses. I love the sound of your laughter and I want to be there for the tears. I want to make you happy in times you need it and I want to make you even happier in times you already are.”

“Damen,” said Laurent, his tongue awfully stuck to his roof and his cheeks burning with embarrassment, “you sound like a lovesick puppy ready to propose.”

Damen let go of him, slid off the bed and went to his knees in front of Laurent, who sat up on his elbows and could not help but watch him with wide eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Mate me, Laurent,” said Damen without hesitation, his eyes so very dark and warm and full of tenderness that caused Laurent to shudder, to tremble with the unspoken force of it. “I want to give you this, this promise that I will always be there for you as best as I can. I want this for myself, too, because I don’t want a future where I have to be without you and I want to see the whole world that we belong together. So please, please become my husband, my mate. It doesn’t have to be right away, just – at some point in the near future. Please?”

For a long moment Laurent had no idea what to say, his mind completely blank. Perhaps it was sheer, utter panic, perhaps it was simply that he had never thought of finding himself in this position, even though he should have known better, perhaps it was a mixture of both. “You’re an idiot.”

It was not exactly what he had wanted to say. Damen blinked a little and cocked his head. “Is – is that a no?”

“I,” said Laurent, and found that he could not speak, not like this, so he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I don’t want to be with anyone else either, even though you snore and think that you’re a great chef because you know how to make pasta and boiled eggs and even though you have the shittiest possible timing with your proposals because we should already be on our way – or at least I should be.”

“So what you're trying to say is that you love me too and you do want to mate me,” said Damen. His eyes were glowing with affection when he sweeped Laurent into his arms and hugged him tightly enough to almost suffocate him, but it was such a lovely, homely feeling that Laurent was, as always, help- and defenseless in the face of Damen’s joy and love. “Am I right?”

“As if I could ever say no to you,” said Laurent even more helplessly and it was perhaps the most honest statement he had ever made, so he buried his face in the crook of Damen’s shoulder and deeply breathed in his scent to find comfort. In this moment nothing else mattered, not the celebration of his degree, not all the people waiting for them, not his suit that was likely to be really very rumpled. What mattered, as always, was Damen’s face, his beautiful eyes, the warmth and joy they shared and once more Laurent was shattered by how lucky he was, how far he had come on his own and with Damen. Two years more, and he would probably be able to tell Damen freely how he felt every time. Four years more, and he would probably be able to show him every time. Damen deserved nothing less.

“I can already hear the bells ringing,” said Damen and laughed with utter joy.


End file.
